Red Hot Steamy Romance Boxed Set: A Steamy Military Romance Series Collection

by Penelope Wylde

  ¡Diablos!

  Every step that took her farther from him was harder than the last.

  Don’t look back. Keep moving. Just another step.

  A frustrated growl rumbled through the air, followed by heavy footsteps in the opposite direction. Spears pierced her heart. This was for the best. She’d return to her small shop, figure out how to save her and her sister’s futures, and never have to worry about heartache again. She just had to survive tonight, and tomorrow would be better.

  She flung open the door to her cousin’s upstairs bedroom, flipped the light on, and grabbed the first thing from the top drawer.

  How could he just blurt out things like being a family? It never got her anything, and it sure as hell never served him. She gritted her teeth and shoved her feet into the closest pair of sneakers. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. God, what was wrong with her? No amount of couch time with a top-notch therapist would fix her screwed-up views on family.

  A sharp noise pierced the quiet night and hijacked her thoughts.

  Everything went pitch black.

  She threw her hands out and blinked several times waiting for them to adjust to the sudden darkness. Before she could clear her head, three gunshots ripped through the night.

  Glass shattered, followed by masculine grunts.

  Dyson!

  What if it was Bautista? Was he as crazy as Dyson had said? Why did he want her so bad? She patted her thigh for her cell. Her heart stopped. Dyson had left in on the counter downstairs.

  She sank to her knees and crawled closer to the door and peered around the corner.

  Another shot split the darkness. Chills ran down her spine. She froze, straining for some indication of what was going on. Nothing. No more glass breaking. No grunts. Nada.

  Her heart lurched into her throat. Each beat cutting off her air.

  It was too quiet. Dyson. What if he was hurt. Or worse… dead?

  Her mind screamed for her to go downstairs to him, make sure he was all right. Logic kept her feet planted in place. What now? If she made a sound, it was game over. She’d place Dyson in more danger if he wasn’t dead already.

  She glanced around Diego’s bedroom. Moonlight broke through the windows, highlighting a phone on the nightstand to her right.

  Relief filled her. She palmed the receiver, the cold plastic slipping a little in her sweaty grasp.

  Dead.

  Tears rimmed her eyes and threatened to spill. She inhaled to the count of three. Dyson needed her not some crybaby.

  With her heart still in her throat, Shay moved to the door and shouldered around the corner, being careful not to make a sound. Just a few steps separated her from the banister.

  Large hands engulfed her shoulders, spun her, and hauled her up against a broad chest. She stiffened, in the steel grip, gasping for air. Blood rushed in her ears and she thrashed against the wall of muscle with hot stinky breath.

  Instinct drove her elbow up into the silhouetted jaw. Her attacker loosened his grip enough for her to kick free. She followed her defense with a blow to the gut. She lurched forward, landing a solid foot, and pushed.

  “¡Bastardo!”

  Her attacker took the hard way down the stairs… head over ass.

  Keeping to the shadows, she stepped over the unconscious dude at the foot of the stairs and paused, the smell of smoke and gasoline overwhelming. She pushed forward.

  Left would take her to the kitchen. Right the living area and the front door. She maneuvered around the last corner separating her from the living room, then pulled up short.

  Cold steel pressed against her temple. Fuck.

  “Ah, señorita, it’s good to see you’re still alive.” A big hand pushed her toward the living area and toward the voice. What was it with thugs? Was it a recruiting requirement to have sausage hands to push people with?

  She recognized the smug voice in the dark. Her gaze darted around in search of the man who went with it. At least her instincts were finally back on target.

  Lights flickered on, revealing four men standing in front of her, each with a gun pointed at Dyson. A little worse for wear, but the bad guys had fared much worse. She held back a smirk. She bet the one with the broken arm and bloody nose wouldn’t forget the wrath of a pissed off Devil Dog anytime soon.

  Her attention drew back to Dyson. He knelt on the floor, focused on her. His mouth tilted up on one side and he winked. Small ripples of relief loosened the knot of fear lodged in her stomach. Much more and the damn thing would take up permanent residence.

  She wished she had the same confidence he obviously had, because right now she’d say this Mexican standoff was a little one-sided.

  “I thought we’d finish our conversation, señorita. Since we were interrupted by your guard dog earlier, you never heard my offer for your business.” His gaze raked over her, and she shuddered from the slimy feeling he gave her.

  She narrowed her eyes as Bautista closed the distance between them. “Señor Bautista.” Her words curt and tainted with contempt.

  Anger curled his lip, marring his otherwise handsome features. Whatever happened to the sweet soft-hearted boy her mother talked so fondly of? The very stories that had prompted Shay to make the call in the first place.

  One thing was for sure, from the cold, calculating eyes that stared down at her, the man standing before her was no longer the boy her mother had grown up with.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a slight movement. Dyson’s hands were bound in front of him. A flash of pink from her misplaced cell phone cupped between his palms clued her in.

  Okay. Keep Bautista’s attention. She could do that. And breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.

  “So starting fires and scaring the shit out of people is your version of talking business? Kinda hard to strike a deal when one side is dead, don’t you think?” Her voice didn’t crack so that was a bonus point for her.

  Beneath his pristine white shirt and gold tie, she could see a tic in his neck as her words struck a nerve. Soulless eyes locked on hers.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, followed by a rush of dread up her spine. She cringed inwardly. One point for the bad guy.

  She gulped in air. She’d never seen such malice in one person. What happened to make him change so much? Looking in his eyes was like looking in a pit of tar. Nothing ever escaped. How had she missed that earlier? On second thought, maybe she hadn’t. Bautista was obviously skilled at hiding his true nature from most, but Dyson had seen the real man beneath the persona.

  She took a step back and into a wall of muscle. She was so focused on the danger before her she’d forgotten about the one at her back.

  “You guys really know how to work a room,” she muttered more to herself than to the man standing way too close for comfort. Her attention flicked over to where Dyson knelt. He tilted his head down a fraction before mouthing, Trust me.

  She blinked her understanding, then turned her attention back to Bautista. “¿Sabes que? You know what? Take whatever offer you have, and leave. I’m nowhere near interested anymore.” Anger clipped her words.

  Hatred flared in Bautista’s eyes. He struck out with the back of his hand so fast she had no chance to block. Pain shot through the side of her face. She gasped and gritted her teeth. The taste of copper filled her mouth.

  In a blur of skin and gun metal, Dyson moved on the men guarding him. She ducked behind the first thing she saw in an effort to get the hell out of the way.

  Rapid gunfire rang in her ears. Shallow, ragged breaths shook her chest. Male voices called out in both Spanish and English, followed by thuds and metal against metal. Then all went silent above the roar in her head.

  Hands grabbed her and pulled her from where she crouched behind the overstuffed sofa.

  She struck out, palm angled up to take out the attacker’s nuts or nose. Whatever was closer.

  “Whoa there, precious, it’s me. You’re safe now.” War
m fingers wrapped around her wrist a moment before strong arms gathered her up and pulled her close. Dyson’s scent worked to calm her nerves as he knelt beside her.

  “¡Gracias a Dios!” Shay threw herself into Dyson’s embrace. “Thank God.” When she woke this morning everything was fine, then she blinked and the jaws of life were prying back the wreckage. No more blinking.

  A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath her ear. She had no idea how he stayed so calm in all the chaos.

  “Remind me never to piss you off. That was one wicked uppercut.” Dyson leaned down, his lips poised to claim hers.

  “So how’s my little cuz?” Diego walked up behind Dyson and leaned over his shoulder. “Everyone all right here?”

  Shay pulled back, but not before Dyson gently kissed her lower lip tenderly, where Bautista had caught her with his backhand. “I’ll make it all better, soon, baby,” he whispered softly for only her to hear. The heat in his eyes told her they were far from being over. Dyson stood, pulling her up with him and into his arms in a single fluid motion.

  “Primo.” She hugged Dyson tighter while looking at her cousin. “What are you doing here?”

  Dyson started. “When we left the bungalow, I caught a tail. While you showered, I phoned Diego again when we realized Bautista’s interest for you didn’t fade with him leaving the wedding. Then I phoned our CO.”

  Diego picked up from there. “After a quick rundown of the situation, our CO called in a couple of friends in the police force here in Cabos. When the name Bautista was mentioned, everything snowballed from there. He’s been on their high priority list for the trafficking of an illegal substance, and most recently, young women. According to the local PD Captain, the word on the street is he’s been looking for a mule to help him cross his merchandise between the borders.”

  “Looks like he had his sights set on one pretty Latina and her tiny, unsuspecting flower shop.” Dyson caressed the back of his finger along her cheek.

  “That’s crazy. I don’t have any clients this side of the border. How could I possibly help him?”

  “To him, your shop was the perfect setup. Small enough not to draw attention. Clients are easy enough to fake. And I suspect, once he found out you were in trouble, he planned to masquerade as your savior long enough to dig his hooks in.”

  Shay stared. Could tonight get any worse?

  “Señores, we’re done.” A portly man with fine lines creasing the rim of his eyes walked up to them. “We’ll be taking Bautista in along with the one man you left breathing.” The officer cocked a brow at Dyson. “Don’t be going anywhere. We’ll be in contact.”

  “I’m not going anywhere and he’s lucky to be breathing. No one threatens a woman in my presence and walks away. Especially if she’s mine.” Dyson’s piercing eyes held her captivated as he spoke. Possessiveness sounded so damn hot when he said it like that.

  “Hey, I need to get back to my new wife. On the way I’ll call the CO and fill him in on the latest Ward adventure. Keep a phone handy. I’m sure he’ll be in contact.”

  Dyson slapped Diego on the back. “Couldn’t ask for a better friend. Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “For damn sure, bro. Catch you on the flip side.”

  “Wait, before you go, the man by the stairs. He’s the one from the bungalow,” Shay added.

  “I’ll let the overseeing officers know, sweetheart. You guys settle in for the night. The alarm is reset so you should be good. And by the looks of it,” Diego’s eyes roved over her marked neck “… you guys have some unfinished business of your own to take care of. Take all the time you need. The wife and I have the honeymoon suite reserved for a couple of nights.”

  Chapter Seven

  A half hour later, Dyson closed the door behind the last of the detectives. He propped himself in the doorway to the guest room, watching Shay soak in the moonlight.

  She was as stubborn as she was beautiful.

  So young to have so much weight on her delicate shoulders. A burden he wanted to relieve for her if she would only let him close enough to help.

  Bautista had almost succeeded in taking her from him tonight. He’d be damned if he waited another day before making sure she understood she was his. Heart and soul.

  Making her see through the wall she held firmly in place might prove the hardest damn thing he’d ever do in this life. When Bautista’s goons broke through the sliding door, his instincts had kicked in, flooding his thoughts with nothing but protecting what he cherished most in the world. He’d never had to do that before. The battlefield carried a different set of emotions. Fighting this close to home shot his system full of fear, his mind screaming at him to take out the enemy. And he had.

  Good thing he was just as stubborn as she was. Otherwise, going back in there and opening himself up to the same rejection his father dished out all his life might take him out faster than enemy fire.

  He walked to where she stood by the upstairs window.

  “What will it take for me to show you just how deep under my skin you are?”

  He crossed the room in long strides and scooped her into his embrace, and buried his face in her hair, filling his lungs with her sweet smell. “Shay, this is it. The fear of losing you or you walking out is tearing my heart in half, and it fucking scares the shit out of me. Tell me what you want.” He’d open a fucking a vein if it would help her understand his need for her.

  “I saw fear in your eyes tonight when Bautista had his gun pointed at me. I’ve seen that fear before. Inside myself. Instead of running away from it or giving up, you showed me something else. You pushed back, which saved us both.”

  He watched as resolve replaced the panic she’d held so close before and he stared in awe.

  “Tell me what to do, Shay, because I don’t know anymore. I don’t know how to make you see I’m worth having by your side. Or how much I love you.”

  She anchored her hands around his where he cupped her face.

  ∞∞∞

  Shay tightened her hold at the impact of his words. “You have it wrong, amor. I’m not leaving.” She pulled him tighter, closer. With their gazes connected, she continued. “If anything, you’ve proven to me that fear is just as powerful as love. That it can drive us to reach deeper than we’ve ever done in our lives. I had it all wrong, Dyson. You were right. Grabbing onto what we love and holding it tight can save us from ourselves.”

  God, she would do anything to erase the hurt she saw in the depths of his eyes. She had no intention of letting anything come between them again.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is if you still want me, us, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been a fool, unable to see the gift of love right here, right now between us. I should have latched onto the love you offered six months ago.” She was so lucky for such a patient man. “Maybe Bautista was just the thing I needed to have the blindfold ripped away.”

  “Then maybe I should be thanking the bastard.” Dyson’s voice washed over her, filling her with relief.

  “Not so fast. I’m not sure I want to thank him. He almost killed the man I love.”

  “So you’re not afraid anymore? Afraid of opening your heart to love? Mine in particular?” A small smile tilted the corner of his lips and she melted into his soft touch on her face.

  She shook her head. “Amor, I’m scared out of my mind. Not of opening my heart to let you in, not anymore, but of never knowing what it’s like to wake up to your smile every single day of my life.”

  Dyson eased his hands beneath the hem of her shirt to run the pad of his fingers along her abdomen. “Maybe we should see what it’s like to make real love then?” He lifted the edge of her cotton T-Shirt and pulled it over her head to reveal her bare breasts. Warm air pushed between them to harden her nipples. His attention honed in on her.

  Dyson slipped the tips of his thumbs into the band of her sweatpants, his mouth poised over hers a beat before he slowly dipped his head. His lips, soft and tender, pr
essed into hers, lingering. As if he wanted the special moment to last as long as possible.

  He pulled back, kissing her from neck to bellybutton as he lowered himself to the floor. With each kiss, he removed her pants a little farther until finally she stood before him, her body—her heart— revealed for him to see.

  A rush of desire washed over her, leaving small quakes of lust to rock her heated core—the heat almost beyond what she could bear.

  He lowered his mouth. With a single tug and nip along her lower abdomen, he took control.

  He wrapped his hands around her waist and she molded to his touch. With each kiss and lick across her skin, her heart had nowhere to go but straight to him. He made sure of it.

  She whimpered and buried her hands in his hair.

  Heat pooled between her swollen folds and overflowed to coat her thighs. He slipped a finger across her already swollen bud, pulling a gasp of delight from her.

  “Show me the juices I know are already spilling down your thighs. Show me what’s mine,” Dyson demanded when she hesitated.

  Fire blazed in his eyes, daring her to disobey. She wasn’t one to disappoint, but teasing him a little more was too tempting to resist. She turned and walked to the window. Moonlight cascaded in, enough to highlight her against the darkness of the room. A small table to her left with a single yellow rose was the only other adornment in the guest room. Fitting, since it represented new love and promises. Like fate had a game plan all along.

  She glanced over her shoulder to watch him reveal his body to her. With his jeans in a heap on the floor, he climbed on the bed and pushed himself up against the pillows, his hardening cock gripped in a firm hold.

  Anticipation gathered and spilled warm liquid in the V of her legs.

  She parted her thighs, the pale light illuminating her juices. He gripped his dick. “Touch yourself, precious.”

  His voice a raspy whisper shaded with a dark desire aimed for her alone. He wanted more? She could do that.

  Cool night air surrounded her, caressing her exposed skin. Stoking the fire that grew from within.

  But nothing compared to the heat she felt a brush against her clit as Dyson watched her part her legs even farther for him. She perched her foot on the corner of the nearby chair. The need to give him everything consumed her to the core. She sucked back a breath as she parted her pink pussy lips, her clit still sensitive from when he claimed her at the bungalow. He’d made her whole body weak from the power of her orgasm, yet here she stood drenched and ready for whatever he wanted.