Maliki (Guardian Defenders Book 2)

by Kris Michaels

  “My name’s Poet.” She extended her hand.

  “I know. Plaques, remember? I’m Maliki.” His hand grasped hers and engulfed it.

  “I know. Shooting, remember?”

  He laughed for a second before he stilled. “I’m going to need everything you have on these cases.”

  “I took a gamble that you would. Hold on.” She darted from the kitchen and headed to her laptop. She grabbed the little silver thumb drive he’d given her this morning from the USB port and closed the attached cap over the top.

  She turned to find him standing next to her. “You forgot this today. I’m returning it to you.” A smile spread across her face.

  “I don’t know how long it will take. I’m not sure if my superiors will approve this, or what resources I’ll have at my disposal.”

  “Anything you can do.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Those girls deserve the effort.” She motioned to the couch. “I’m really a crappy hostess. Have a seat. Can I get you an after dinner drink?” She motioned toward a small bar she’d bought in Korea when she did her unaccompanied tour.

  He smiled and glanced at her bar. “Is that Sake?”

  “It is. The good stuff. I found a small liquor store in Alexandria that stocks it. I can’t find the brand we used to buy when I was stationed in Okinawa, but this one is smooth. It probably should be served chilled a bit, but with the air conditioner blasting in this room, I think it is sufficient.” She poured two small cups and handed him one.

  “Thank you. How long were you at Kadena Air Force Base?” He took a sip and smiled. “This is very good.”

  “Man, it is so cool to talk to someone who knows where Air Force bases are.” She took a sip and motioned to the couch. “I was there eighteen months. It was my overseas short assignment. I should have been there for twenty-four months, but I was reassigned to Kunsan, Korea. They gave me my short tour ribbon for Kadena and remote credit for Kunsan, so I was happy. I spent eighteen months in Japan, a year in Korea, and then I was stationed stateside. Tyndall Air Force Base.”

  “We have a lot in common. I was stationed at Kunsan for two years and I finished my enlistment at AFSOC before I separated.”

  “Air Force Special Operations Command.” She nodded her head. “Why did you punch?”

  He took another sip of his sake before he spoke. “When I joined the Air Force, I left behind a life and my medical career. I wanted to incorporate that career and knowledge with my new skills and independence. I was approached by Guardian about six months before my end of enlistment. They’d done their homework. They knew everything about me and told me they could get my medical license transferred to my new name. They wanted me to work on a team overseas.”

  “Did you?”

  “I did. Now, however, I’m a facility physician.” He lowered his eyes and took another sip.

  She cringed. The poor guy. “God, no way. That has to be killing you.”

  He flicked his eyes to her. “Why would you say that?”

  “Why?” She snorted inelegantly. “You’re an adrenaline junkie.”

  He angled his head. “Do tell.”

  She rolled her eyes at his expressionless demeanor. “Oh please.” She scooted back into the corner of the couch and lifted her feet onto the sofa.

  “No, I’d like to hear why you think I’m an adrenaline junkie.”

  “First, you were a PJ for six years. Isn’t your training for that, like, over a year?”

  “Two years.”

  “And while in training you went through survival school and jump school, right?”

  “And dive school.”

  She tapped her nose with her finger. “Bingo. You moved from being a PJ to Guardian and were placed on an ops team." She made air quotes around the word team. "I’m assuming these teams were utilized for overseas deployments?”

  He shrugged and set the empty cup on the coffee table before he rested an arm on top of the back of the couch. She watched as his shirt seams screamed for relief. The man’s body was sculpted. Chiseled. She would be lying if she said she didn’t notice. She did. Boy, howdy, she noticed him. She’d bet a month’s pay that man knew his way around the bedroom, too.

  She lowered her eyelids and her voice, hoping like hell the look was enticing. “I watched you while you worked on Shauna. Last night you were in your element. You performed like a madman and yet... you told me that you had no emotional investment in the situation." When he started to speak, she lifted a hand and rushed, "I'm not criticizing. I get it. You meant it. What you did last night wasn’t that big of a deal for you. But let me tell you, what happened last night was a major event for every other person that responded. You’ve done that, responded to emergencies, dealt with gunshot wounds, coordinated medical care, so many times that it was… routine.” She finished her sake and tipped her head. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Well, he sure as hell couldn't tell her that. He stared at the woman across from him. He liked her. She picked up on a lot in a short amount of time. Sharp, intelligent and sexy, but also brave. She was putting her career on the line to make sure her victims received justice. Instinct told him Sheriff Watson was, at a minimum, a pompous asswipe—at the maximum, a dirty cop trying to hide something. Whatever Watson didn't want the BCI to find if they came to his county was irrelevant. The cases Poet had told him about were easy to explain away, but Poet's instinct was telling her something was off. He didn’t feel the connection in the cases. All could be easily explained and had been, but she’d grabbed onto something, something she was willing to lose her career over. He wouldn’t dismiss her concerns out of hand.

  “You’re staring at me, but you’re not telling me I’m wrong.” Those big blue eyes sparkled.

  “I may tend to gravitate toward activities from which others would walk away.”

  “I knew it.” She slapped her leg. “This deserves another drink.”

  “Aren’t you on call?”

  “Nope, I didn’t know how tonight would go down, so I asked Carter Hopson to take my calls. Normally, we are a very quiet county.” She lifted off the couch, and he watched her pull down her shirt, covering the creamy expanse of skin that had been temporarily exposed. When she strode over to the small bar, he watched her go. Those long, sexy, jean-clad, legs and phenomenal ass were damn near impossible to miss. Her hair spilled down her back and shifted when she stooped over the bar, exposing her trim waist and the swell of her breasts.

  She straightened and eventually, his eyes wandered back up to her face. She tilted her head, adding a sexy as fuck smile. “Want another drink… or maybe you'd be interested in something else? A diversion of another nature?”

  His gaze slowly rose to meet hers. “That depends. What exactly are you offering?”

  She leaned against the wall by the bar, and stared at him, looking at him in a way that made plain what she was offering. She licked her lips, and he followed the glistening tip of her tongue. Finally, she broke the tension between them. “Sex, between two consenting, willing adults. A night, maybe two."

  His eyebrows shot up. Damn, she wasn't playing any games.

  "I can see you think I'm being forward." She shrugged. "I’m not shy. When I see something I like, I go for it, but I’m not looking for a head trip filled with emotional baggage.” She lifted her sake cup to her mouth and drank it, not taking her eyes from him. He extended his other arm along the back of the couch and dropped his knees open. His cock, which had been half interested since he walked through the door, was now paying close attention to the conversation.

  “I checked my emotional baggage all the way through to the final destination so there’s no need to worry about any luggage issues from my end.” Hell, it had been a hot minute since he’d been intimate with anything but his right hand. He didn't want the emotional encumbrance either. Unfortunately, this woman had other issues besides emotions to deal with. “I’m staying for a week or so, but I believe you were warned to stay away from me?”

&nbs
p; She gave an inelegant snort before she added, “As if he is in charge of my life outside the office. Besides... do you really want to talk about him?” She walked over and dropped to her knees in front of him. “I want to feel this.” She reached up and ran her fingers through his beard, tugging it lightly. Her eyes held his for a moment before they dropped to his lips or perhaps his beard. “Oh yes, I want to feel this… everywhere.” Leaning forward she pressed her body closer. He let his hand cup the side of her waist above her hip. She moved forward, collapsing the small space between them.

  Her warm sake-scented breath caressed his lips before her skin touched his. He moved back before they could kiss, even though it killed him. “We need to talk about protection.” He didn’t have a fucking condom, and he’d never gone without protection, not even years ago when he was engaged.

  “I have us covered.” She moved from the floor and climbed into his lap. Her long legs folded and resting on either side of him.

  He leaned back when she dipped down to catch his mouth. “I don’t have sex without protection.”

  She cupped his face in her hands and smiled. “Don’t trust easily do you, Doctor?” She leaned forward and nibbled on the lobe of his ear.

  The action sent a shiver of desire through him–one he didn’t try to disguise. “I don’t trust anyone with my health, and you shouldn’t either.”

  She slid her lips up the curve of his ear, her hot breath skimming the sensitive skin. Fuck… it was killing him to say no. His dick was begging him to shut his brain down and take what was being offered.

  “I’m on the pill and I have a box of condoms in my bedroom. I don’t take chances; I take responsibility. My body, my choice, my responsibility. Now, is there anything else you need to address before you shut up and kiss me?”

  “Only this.” He grabbed her ass and heaved her over to the side and onto the couch, following her as she fell on her back, his body positioned between her legs.

  “Damn. That’s sexy as fuck. I like that you're that strong.” Poet linked her fingers behind his neck and tugged him down to her. This time he went. The kiss surpassed eager and lapped needy before it slammed into desperate. He was fucking starving, and this woman was his feast. He pushed up her t-shirt. She got the hint and squirmed from it as he unfastened her jeans. He stood and slid the denim down and off her long, sexy legs. Not giving him a moment to enjoy the view, she bounced off the couch and pushed at his shirt. He whipped it over his head as her hands trailed quickly down his chest and found his waistband. It took seconds for her to open his jeans. She yanked on the denim, pulling his boxers down in the process. His cock bounced, heavy, full and straining.

  “You're a big boy. Please tell me you know how to use that.” Poet grabbed his shaft with one hand and tried to remove his jeans with the other.

  “Fucking boots.” He tried to pull them through the material, finding her mouth as they tried to get him out of his jeans. Finally, she pushed him backward. He laughed as he bounced on the cushions.

  "Lift your foot."

  She grabbed his calf and helped him. He’d been with more than his share of women, but he’d never been with someone this bossy. She grabbed the leather and loosened the laces, tugged the boots off and tossed them over her shoulder. "Fucking combat boots, and of course you ladder laced the sons of bitches."

  As she mumbled and worked, he drank in the sight before him. Her ivory skin was sprinkled with freckles over the shoulders and on her chest. Her breasts, full and high, moved behind a white lace bra that matched her thong. Fuck him standing, she was waxed. He licked his lips. He loved women who waxed. He thought it was fucking sexy.

  “Ha! There! Finally!” She jerked the jeans from his feet. Free of the encumbrance of his jeans she dropped down between his legs and took his cock into her mouth. No warning, no preamble, just hard, hot suction.

  He grabbed her hair, and when she moaned around him, he tightened his grip. She moaned again and continued her assault. Holy crap, she was as hungry for sex as he was. “Fuck, that’s it. Suck me.”

  She lifted onto her knees and started bobbing her head up and down his shaft. Her hand grasped him and pumped up, meeting her lips while the other one cupped his balls and squeezed lightly.

  “Stop. Close.” He pushed his hips up, sending his cock into her throat. She gagged around him but didn’t stop. “Poet, stop.” He grabbed her shoulder and barred her forward movement.

  She groaned and popped off him. “Why?” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

  Because he was over forty and unlimited trips to the orgasm buffet wasn’t a guarantee anymore. He’d damn well get what he wanted on the first pass through. “Where are the condoms?”

  She stood up and extended her hand. She braced and helped him up. Fuck, she was fit. Beautiful, healthy and fucking sexy. She lifted his hand, licked down the palm and lowered it to his shaft where she cupped his hand around his cock and together, they stroked his shaft. His eyes nearly rolled back into his brain. She was fucking killing him. "Keep that hard and follow me."

  Follow her? Hell yeah. He followed that firm ass to the bedroom and watched as she retrieved a box of condoms from her bedside table. She grabbed some and dropped them on the bed before she unclasped her bra, releasing her full breasts. Her dark, dusty-rose nipples were taut and as fucking enticing as a hit of H to an addict. She slid her fingers under the elastic of her thong, and with a small wiggle of her hips, it dropped to the floor. Flicking her fall of dark auburn hair to her back she extended her arms. “Like what you see, Doctor?”

  “God, yes.” He moved around the bed and snagged an arm around her waist. He intended to lower the flame on the heat between them, to enjoy the evening, but the second they kissed his intentions went to shit. Flame, meet isopropyl alcohol. The combustion was immediate and incendiary.

  Her hands ran up his arms and grabbed his biceps, her firm, lithe body molded against his. “I don’t want sweet. I want to be fucked, hard. I want to know you were here when I wake up tomorrow morning.” She slid her hands up and tangled them in his beard, pulling him forward. “Show me you can use that cock. Fuck me like you mean it.”

  He growled as he consumed her. She battled for control of the kiss. He shifted his grip and bent her backward until she had to grab onto his shoulders for balance. That’s when she stopped trying to drive the train and got on board. He explored the depths of her mouth until breathing became the priority. Slowly he lifted her up, kissing the column of her neck as they both panted, desperately gathering air in their lungs. He pushed forward, holding her, placing them both on the bed. Her soft, firm breasts pushed against his chest as he manhandled her to the middle of the bed. His teeth scraped her collarbone before he found the top of her breast and then her nipple.

  Her hands speared through his hair. She gasped when he tongued her nipple, stopping to suck and nip at the apex of her sensitive skin. Her legs parted for him. He rubbed his beard over her skin using the scrape to sensitize and then used his tongue and lips to entice. After feasting on her breasts, he lowered his assault, inch by glorious inch. Her body arched under him. He moved her legs over his shoulders and opened her. Fuck, she was gorgeous. He loved the taste of her.

  Oh my God… Poet angled her hips, pressing into Maliki’s mouth. It had been forever since anyone had gone down on her. Fuck that, it had been forever since any man had ignited more than a passing interest. She wanted that shaft inside her. She wanted this man to send her into oblivion and then maybe she wanted to do it again. He sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. "Fuck, yes, fuck..." Heat pooled low and her legs trembled. She stretched and tightened, her body seizing hard. "Oh God... yes!" She bucked against his face as she climaxed.

  Her world flipped, and she was being pushed chest first into the bedding. Maliki lifted her hips while pushing down her shoulder. She felt him lean over and snag a condom. Her core still tightened rhythmically, the phantom echoes of one hell of an orgasm.

/>   Thick, strong fingers wrapped around her hips and held her as his thick, long, cock speared into her, faster and harder than she'd anticipated. She gasped, and he stilled immediately. "Good, so good." She panted the words knowing he needed her to acknowledge she was okay. He pulled out and pushed forward again, and again, gaining speed with each thrust. The friction of their bodies moving together, the intense pressure of his body as he slammed into her, and the rasp of his dick inside her, transformed her into an exposed nerve ending. Everything was intense and overwhelming. Heat and pleasure built, surpassing any sex she'd had in the last fifteen years. His thrusts were hard, sharp, and fast. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with her own. She snaked a hand down and rubbed her clit.

  "Fuck, yeah. I can feel you touching yourself." His words came in fast bursts. "Bring yourself off. I'm going to lose it."

  She had no problem doing that. Her fingers flew over that tight nub and not more than fifteen seconds later she crashed. Flashes of white behind her eyelids exploded the same time she did. Mal continued his hard, relentless pace until he finished. His hips stuttered, his breath caught, and he thrust through his orgasm, finally, gasping for air.

  Liquefied she oozed bonelessly down onto the bed. Somehow, she moved her arms from underneath her and flopped them to her sides, where Maliki promptly landed on one when he moved off her. He shifted his weight, and she reeled her arm from under him. “Damn.”

  Maliki snorted and took off the condom. She watched that rock hard, chiseled butt as he headed into the bathroom to dispose of it. Fuck, he was probably the best-looking man she'd ever been with, and he fucking knew how to deliver an orgasm—or two. When he returned, he slid into the sheets beside her. He lay on his stomach and turned to face her. “Damn is not a ringing endorsement.”

  She rolled toward him. “Oh, I’ll give you one hell of a review. Five Stars.”

  A deep rumble of laughter vibrated the mattress below her. “Yeah? And where would you post said review?”