Guarding Aisha

by Zoë Normandie

  Aisha kissed him back with fervor and held on to his muscled back and shoulders. With every movement he made, she felt his muscles shift beneath her hands. She moaned out loud as he moved down her neck, teasing and tonguing the sensitive flesh.

  “Jake,” she moaned.

  The man had started a fire inside of her, and she was at a loss to describe it. It was too new, too fragile.

  He continued moving south and pushed her back onto the seat with authority. He crouched in the foot well, his massive frame pushing her all the way up against the back seat door to make room for him.

  What was he doing?

  She tried sitting up, and he pressed her down again. “Lean back,” he ordered. “Do as I say—for once.”

  She crashed back with a yelp, unable to understand what he was doing. Unable to believe how hot he was making her. One large hand reached over to hers and clamped them tightly together, like a handcuff. She had no choice.

  She felt blood pulsing into her groin and up into her wet core. It was like he knew how to be just her type. Everything about him was so right.

  His mouth found her breasts, tasting and sampling the rosy tips. With each taste, her moans grew louder and her breathing quickened. He kissed lower, onto her abdomen and then down to her thighs.

  She couldn’t help but wiggle with the sensation. It was sending currents through her body. He tried holding her still. She felt the bud below throbbing and her wet core aching for his touch. She knew exactly where she needed him, but he steadfastly avoided it.

  “Jake. I want you inside me.” She barely knew what she was saying, but he seemed to understand.

  “I love it when you beg.” He grinned like the devil himself, pleased with his feast.

  He kissed up her thigh again, nearing her bud. With one hand, he massaged nearer and nearer until he was so close that his nose was practically touching it. He blew a stream of air against her slit.

  “Is this where you want it?” he asked innocently.

  She shuddered and her legs moved involuntarily.

  “Tell me,” he said as he did it again.

  As she shook, she moaned, “Yes. Yes.”

  He put his mouth on the top of her crease and very softly tongued it. Teasingly.

  “Say it again,” he said.

  She cried out in frustration.

  He licked it harder, more intensely, and she moaned harder.

  “Please do that,” she started to beg.

  She could feel an ache growing inside her that would never go away. She needed him. She needed this. He buried his mouth in her, tasting her harder and harder. Her legs jolted, but his strong arms held them down.

  Aisha felt his power. His strength. She knew then that he loved feeling her come apart, and he loved being the reason for it. Her entire body throbbed and gushed and gasped as he drew out shock after shock from her bud. But apparently that was only half the show because his hands crept up her thighs and he inserted one, two, even three fingers inside her. Then he did it all together. Tongue and fingers moving, slowly and quicker and slow again.

  It was made all the sweeter by the restraint he had her under. He loved being in control, and she loved it when he controlled her.

  As her hips moved rhythmically against his mouth, he followed along, drawing everything out of her and lapping up the orgasm he created. Her head banged against the back seat car door as he rocked her, but she didn’t care about anything else. All she cared about was his mouth on her. Finally, with the last wave, he stopped and slowly kissed up her thigh again.

  Aisha exhaled completely, like she was breathing for the first time, her lungs full of satisfaction and life. Her eyes were wide and open but unfocused. She’d had an experience in France, but it was nothing like that.

  “You can do this,” he reaffirmed. “You can do anything. Remember that.”

  “I will.”

  “Good. I’m not always going to be around to remind you.”

  He sat at the end of the back seat, watching her breathe heavily for several moments. Aisha finally looked down only to see his hard ridge, grown even harder in his pants.

  He looked up at her and caught her concern. “Don’t worry,” he said, offering her a soft smile.

  She smiled sheepishly. “I can help.”

  He laughed, pressing his lips against her thighs again. “You always want to help. I like that a lot about you.”

  She sat up and ran her fingers through his hair. “Now you just need to actually let me help.”

  She reached down and palmed the length of his hard shaft over his pants. She told herself that she was bold enough to reach inside and pull it out. But her nerves stopped her. She wasn’t as experienced as him. She was afraid of holding it wrong. What if he didn’t like what she did? She wanted him to tell her what to do again.

  Jake was patient, kissing her as she played with him over his pants. Finally, impatient, he whipped her up and flipped her over onto her tummy. He grabbed her hips and brought them back and up, so she was open to him. She felt the fabric of his pants, and the hard erection, pressing up against her naked backside. She wished that fabric away, but it remained.

  “This is what I want,” he said in low, sensual tones. “I want you bent over in front of me.”

  He inserted two fingers inside her core and rubbed them toward the front. Aisha felt immense pleasure at his touch and wondered if he was drawing out another spellbinding spasm. She surprised herself by moaning again.

  “You are so fucking hot,” he said to her before adding quickly, “and sweet and beautiful and all that shit.”

  He pushed her legs apart further and brought her up higher, so she was kneeling on the seat.

  As he massaged her cheeks, he brought his face down and licked her core between her ass cheeks. She jumped, not expecting it. People did that? He brought her hips back into position and held onto her tight. She felt him reposition his shaft under his pants. As she looked back over her shoulder at him longingly, he returned her gaze, seemingly considering the possibilities before him.

  “A shame we have run out of time.”

  “We have?” she asked, once again disappointed.

  It was the first time in a long time she hadn’t thought about anything else.

  “I have something to tell you.” She swallowed. “It’s starting to feel like me and you against the world.”

  He pressed his lips to hers again, and told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear. “But time’s finally up now. We’ve been on borrowed time since I met you.”

  The sound of a vehicle in the distance stilled their movements.

  “Fuck,” Jake snapped, and his gaze caught hers. “We’ve been here too long.” And Aisha she saw the same regret in his eyes that he wore after their night in the tent.

  “What are we doing?” Aisha whispered.

  He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t know.”

  “Jake…” She continued, but she stopped once she saw it in his eyes.

  Pain.

  This time, though, Aisha was sure that she knew the cause of the pain. It was her. They were setting themselves up for disaster.

  Jake pushed the back seat door open and jumped back into the front. Aisha dressed quickly. The scent of orgasm and sex was palpable in the car.

  He turned back. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  More than one vehicle could be heard driving up and down the street in the distance.

  If Aisha could have taken a picture, it would have been then. Jake looked delicious and sexy, gazing back at her with everything in his eyes. She felt a passion for him then that she’d never felt before, and a deep yearning for much more.

  But he was right. Their moment was over.

  He turned back to the wheel and started the engine.

  “Jake,” she said, leaning forward in her seat. “I was told once that it’s not how often we fall, but that we always pick ourselves back up. And life is easily assessed l
ooking backward, but we must continue moving forward.” She breathed softer as he turned back to look at her. “We must continue moving forward. No matter how insane things get.”

  “Remember that,” he replied quickly, before turning back to the front. “For when I’m not around anymore.”

  The words hung heavy in the air. Successful or not, they were on a course that was about to separate them. Finally, she’d found someone. After years and years of being alone, she’d found someone who believed in her. Made her feel things she’d never felt before.

  Aisha wrapped Jake’s sweater around herself again and sat back in her seat, pressing her face into her hands.

  Her hot, flushed face.

  Her sated body.

  Her aching heart.

  17

  Fucking perfect, Jake thought as he pulled the car onto the street.

  There were no cars around, but it didn’t matter—something was wrong. With him.

  He could feel a fog, a lack of focus in his mind. All he could think about was Aisha. Every time he gave into it, he lost it. His need to fuck her was finally going to get them killed.

  As they drove on, the winding mountainside started to change before his eyes. He wasn’t seeing snow-dusted hills anymore—he was seeing and feeling the whipping sand of the Sahel. The flashbacks and hallucinations threw him every time he was in a heated moment, and it took every ounce of his resolve to come back to reality.

  He got his pistol and replacement clips ready. It was going to get nasty. He’d seen enough direct action to feel the threat. And he wasn’t afraid to shoot. He’d shoot anyone who thought about laying their filthy fucking hands on her.

  The crumbling hillside of the mountain left only a narrow drive before him. A black SUV, same make and model, pulled out of the street ahead and turned onto the road in front of their car. Then there were two. Jake was boxed in, and on the narrow road, there weren’t a lot of options.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” he muttered.

  The SUV wasn’t pristine—Jake wondered if it was armored or stolen or what. How many guys were inside? Were there explosives?

  It was a cool night, but he didn’t feel the Canadian cold—he felt the chill of the Sahara and the fear that any second he’d drive over some fucking IED.

  “What? What is it?” Aisha said from the back seat.

  Her shaking voice brought him back to the present. He wasn’t in Africa. Aisha was with him.

  He made a mental note to stop swearing and be more positive.

  “It’s fucking fine!” He threw on a fake smile. “Just stay the fuck down!”

  The black SUV in front slowed down while the one behind him sped up. Jake tried slowing down and then accelerating to shake things up—but the SUVs didn’t budge from their hold, and any further movement would put them in danger of a collision.

  He had to get creative.

  Jake scanned the roadway. With the curving roads, he couldn’t see if there were oncoming cars. Vehicles passed in the opposite lane from time to time. It wasn’t safe to get in that lane, and he knew it.

  The SUV in the rear sped up again and tapped his rear bumper. He felt his tires losing traction. The SUVs were superior combat quality than his car, apparently.

  “Jake? Jake? Was is that?” Aisha cried.

  Jake stayed steady on the wheel and gas, doing his best to stabilize them.

  “Asshole,” Jake yelled. “Don’t worry, we aren’t hooped yet.” He didn’t sense that she was convinced.

  “Should we pull over?” Aisha called.

  “That’s exactly what we shouldn’t do,” Jake muttered. “Let me be the professional. You just relax!”

  Bullets hit his door.

  Aisha screamed.

  The glass broke.

  The cold wind blew hard into the car.

  So much for the car he’d spent his lifetime restoring, perfecting, and loving.

  “How am I supposed to relax?” she screamed through the noise coming in through the window.

  It was a good question. They were up shit creek. The SUV behind sped up again and rammed the back of their car, trying again to spin them out.

  He lowered his window and got his gun ready. He was going to kill those fuckers. They tried to kill his friend. They were trying to kill his girl. The air of the Sahel whipped in his face again, and he gritted his teeth, focusing on his target.

  As the SUV slammed them, Jake responded by swerving their car slightly onto the shoulder—just enough to give himself a clear shot—and then he shot out the rear driver’s side tire on the SUV in front.

  Pop. Pop.

  Perfect.

  Damn right.

  He never missed targets.

  The front SUV lost its grip on the road and began fishtailing. Tire destroyed.

  Fortunately, they pulled around another bend, and there was a short straightway where Jake had a good line of sight and an open opposite lane. He didn’t think twice.

  Swerving into the oncoming lane, he hit the gas and pushed his fender against the rear tires of the SUV in front, increasing the fishtail. By this time, the occupants of the SUVs in front and back began taking shots at the car. It was raining bullets. Glass shattered everywhere.

  “Stay down. Get lower!” Jake yelled back to Aisha. He saw her drop below the seats in the back.

  More bullets rained in, and Jake frantically searched for confirmation that his precious cargo was intact.

  But he had no time.

  He hit the gas. Whether it was luck, skill, or both, the front SUV spun out, and as he pulled his car away, it smacked the rear SUV before pitting itself off the side of the road.

  Jake didn’t want to look a gift horse in its mouth—he hit the gas. Full throttle. Pedal to the floor. They whipped around curves, nearly going up on two wheels. Within thirty seconds, Jake had created enough distance between himself and the SUVs that he couldn’t see them behind him anymore. But he suspected the rear SUV had recovered and wouldn’t be far behind.

  “Still with me?” he bellowed into the back, feeling somewhere between here and a faraway place.

  She popped her head up in between the seats, and he immediately came back to reality. She had a way of bringing him home every time. A way of sobering him.

  “Are they gone?” Aisha asked, her voice trembling.

  “For now. Stay down,” Jake warned. “We’ll be at the airport soon.” I hope.

  He didn’t have a phone with him. He didn’t have a map. Just guesswork and a memory like a steel trap.

  It disturbed him how easily his mind went in and out of the here and now. Only Aisha brought him back.

  After a few more miles, he let out a breath as they turned off onto the airport bypass. It was a small airport catering exclusively to the richest ski-resort goers. There was just enough space in the valley for a Learjet, a few small planes, and helicopters to drop passengers.

  As they approached the airport, the Learjet sent by the CIA was just landing on the tarmac. They were minutes away. Once they were in America, they’d have all the resources they needed to keep Aisha safe.

  He reached back and gently caressed Aisha’s hand, which was clutching the seat. It was white and cold, like her.

  “We’re almost there. When we stop the car, we head for the plane. But don’t get out until I say so,” he instructed.

  They pulled the car into the airport parking lot. It was all private, so there wasn’t much in terms of airport security. There also wasn’t much in terms of traffic. It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

  Too quiet, Jake thought.

  He kept his pistol out and, continuing to scan, got out of the car, keeping it as cover. He saw no immediate signs of danger or onlookers. What he did see were a lot of bullet holes in his baby.

  “God damn…” He grimaced.

  Then he noticed something odd.

  Jake considered for a moment what he was seeing, but no matter what way he looked at it, he couldn’t deny that all of the bullets had b
een directed at the driver.

  At him.

  Fuck. Someone was after him?

  He pulled Aisha out of the back and ushered her forward. She clung to him.

  “Stay close,” he told her. “Almost there.”

  He could see terror in her eyes. Her body was rigid and cold. It fucked up the feeling in his chest. He wanted to make it all better for her. He put his arm around her and slid it down to grasp her hand, which was small and nearly frozen in his. He pumped it reassuringly in hopes of returning blood and warmth.

  “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked.

  She shook her head feverishly. Almost too enthusiastically. God, the woman had strength he’d never seen. He could only imagine how terrifying all of this would be to someone who’d never had combat experience. She was handling it like a champ.

  “You’re doing great,” he said as he led her forward. There was no time. They had to press on.

  They traced around the brick building and approached the fenced-off tarmac. Security agents mulled in the rear of the airport, assisting the pilot of the jet with deplaning.

  Jake dug into the secret pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a set of small picking tools. He grabbed the heavy lock on the fence and slid a metal pick inside it. He was rusty at this, but the lock gave way after a few moments of muddling with it. He pushed the gate open and brought Aisha through. He continued to pull her quietly along the exterior of the building without notifying the people ahead of their presence.

  The security guards went back inside the building, and the pilot boarded the jet again, leaving the steps unattended.

  Jake tugged Aisha’s hand, but he felt the fog rising up in him. His mind was still tactically sharp, but he felt out of touch with himself, like he was watching himself in third person. Aisha was the only solid thing amidst all the threat.

  They made a dash for the stairs and went up into the jet. The interior was modern and new. He surmised it was one of the agency’s newer airlifts.

  He sat Aisha in a nearby chair and went back to lift up the jet stairs. She watched him carefully, clutching the chair.