Commanding.
He grabbed her tightly, keeping her in his lap. She tasted like he remembered: fruity, sweet, and fresh.
When her eyes became downcast again, he lifted up her chin.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes locked onto hers. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She averted her gaze again and said nothing. So he placed his hand on the back of her head and kissed her again. Quickly her tongue found his, and they exchanged wetness and heat. He knew exactly how to drive her insane.
She gasped. “That isn’t fair.”
“True,” he groaned. “But you taste so fucking good.”
It made her smile, and kissing her while she smiled felt even more incredible. She was the perfect combination of passionate, submissive, and playful.
“Open your legs,” he growled, reaching down into her black tights.
In an instant, he pushed the light cotton panties aside and drove his finger into her wet core. Her eyes grew wide with shock, but she obeyed completely, submitting to everything he did. It was all he wanted.
Her strength rose up from within, and a seductress emerged. She knew what she wanted. She was assertive. She was strong.
He wasn’t going to deny her.
She continued leaning back, and he kissed down her throat toward her beautiful, round, supple breasts.
“What if…” she began, but she ended in a sigh as he played with her nipple between his lips and tongue. “Oh…”
Jake worked fast and hungrily, pushing and pulling her body as he wanted. As he needed. Touching her everywhere he pleased. Every touch drew a response from her, and she seemed soaked in pleasure. He felt lost in the sexuality of it. Lost in the sensation. The intimacy.
Aisha reached down to his fly, pulling at his pants to release his cock. He grabbed her wrists.
“No.”
She looked him down, indignant. “Yes. You can, but I can’t?” Her tone was strong and unwavering. Never had he been so proud of her.
“I’m in charge,” he reminded her in his deep, dark voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
But before the play could continue, Jake’s cell rang loudly in the cab. He fished it out of his pocket. A blocked caller. He had one fucking guess who that was.
“Buddy,” he answered in a businesslike voice, keeping Aisha in his lap.
“You good?” King asked. Jake heard shouting voices and sirens in the background.
“All clear for now,” Jake confirmed as he played with a stray lock on the side of Aisha’s neck.
“Good, because it’s about to get insane.” King’s voice became nearly inaudible. “They’ve cocked up some bullshit that she’s a fugitive, a jihadist, armed and dangerous and on the run. That’s been blasted out to all authorities.”
Jake’s eyes connected with Aisha’s, and he knew she’d heard it.
“You know what that means,” King said.
“Means they can to shoot to kill.” Jake’s tone grew dark and bitter.
“Yes. She’s got about a twenty-four-hour life expectancy now.” King’s tone grew ominous. “Leave.”
Jake overheard Kate’s voice screaming at authorities in the background, and the words she was saying confirmed it all. They’d fucking betrayed Aisha. They’d lost control of their asset, and now they were going to take her out—appeasing not only their own egos, but their trading relationship with her daddy.
Giving her one last kiss, sorrowful and angry at everything that had happened to her, Jake moved her back to the passenger seat of the truck. Her empty eyes gazed back at him, and Jake hit the gas. They took off, once again fleeing the scene and on the run together. But this time, they didn’t have the law on their side—and there was nothing scarier than being targeted by the people you once trusted. Jake knew, because he’d been there.
28
OVER ONE YEAR EARLIER
Chief Special Warfare Operator Jake Wilder leaned forward and signed a document on the troop commander’s desk. He could feel that snake breathing down his neck as he paced behind him.
“Medical discharge?” Lieutenant Commander Fuller sneered. “Fucking bullshit.”
Jake kept his face emotionless, not willing to get into it. He hadn’t expected it either, but there were some things he couldn’t hide anymore.
“Sir.” He picked up the documents and handed them to the commander with a tone of finality.
The commander refused to take them, anxiously pacing the small military office instead. He knew very well what was slipping through his fingers. Jake, a solid SEAL, had finally had enough.
Jake hadn’t wanted to leave, and he’d struggled with the reality for a long time. But he couldn’t do it anymore. He’d seen too much, done too much. His mental health was mess, like Christmas lights all balled up when they got pulled out of the box every year. Some lights didn’t even fucking fire anymore, and you could never get them untangled.
“You’ve signed the nondisclosure agreement?” Fuller snapped, leering as his anxiety became palpable.
“Yes, sir.” Jake nodded, looking straight ahead out of the small window.
Jake knew exactly what was making Fuller so nervous: the idea that yet another SEAL would retire and write a stupid tell-all book, getting the public all hot and horny over the crazy-ass shit that they pulled in theatre. But that wasn’t Jake. He wasn’t going to snitch. Not on the boss, not on no one.
Snitching required talking, and Jake didn’t fucking do that.
Finally, the commander whipped himself into his chair across the desk and pulled the documents over for a final inspection.
Jake was almost out. He just needed the boss to sign off. He watched in silence as his boss analyzed the papers. They’d never seen eye to eye.
Fuller slammed the documents back down, and Jake saw that familiar anger rising within him.
“You know what this is?” He waved the medical discharge in front of Jake’s face. “Failure. You’ve failed to get a grip on yourself, and now you are failing your men. Think of who needs you here. Are you just going to leave them?”
Jake remained still. He’d known it would come down to this. But it hurt all the same. He wasn’t one of those guys who ran away when things got hard. Didn’t matter that he had worked his ass off in that troop for over a decade. There was always more to give, and you were always leaving someone behind.
“I’m doing what I have to do—” Jake started, but Fuller cut him off, throwing the document back at him.
“This pansy-ass bullshit. Mental health? For fuck’s sake. Go have a drink like we used to,” the troop commander growled. “This is nothing but neoliberal failure. I taught you to be tougher than this.”
And as Fuller’s eyes narrowed, Jake felt a flush rise within him for the first time since he’d sat down—a flush he was nearly unable to contain. He started tasting that sandy grit.
Suddenly, there was no doubt in his mind that he would do whatever it took to get far, far away from that clown.
29
After they fled the airport, Jake brought Aisha to a suburban Washington house that was much cozier than the condo on Virginia Beach.
Aisha loved everything about it. But it wasn’t the granite countertops or the grey-tiled bathroom. It wasn’t the modern edge, the cool feeling. It was the fact that Jake was with her.
They’d arrived about an hour ago, well into evening. Jake explained that it was a home that Aidan King had acquired to hide Master Chief Ryder Luciano months ago while he recovered from a serious incident in the Sahel. Aisha knew there was more to the story, but Jake wasn’t willing to talk about it. As much as that still burned her, she felt too depleted to process.
After all, she’d gone from being a CIA asset to a terrorist target in the span of about ten minutes.
In the private basement en suite bathroom, Aisha reached into the shower stall and turned on the hot water. A hot, hot shower was exactly what she needed to escape. She started peeling off her clothing. It cro
ssed her mind that she had nothing with her. Nothing else at all.
Feeling wretched about the turn of events, she stepped into the stall, letting the hot water cascade down her back. She was tense. Rigid muscles framed her spine, and sharp pains threatened to stab right through to her chest. Her abdomen had been flush with anxiety for days. These were symptoms she’d felt before, especially since she’d decided to defect.
She’d started soaping her face when a knock came at the door.
“Yes?” she tried to mumble through the soap.
A second knock came.
“Yes?” she said louder, trying to be clear.
The bathroom door opened, and a dark figure entered. She squeaked in faint surprise before making out Jake’s blurry face through the frosted shower glass.
“Hey, I don’t mean to barge in,” he began, holding a stack of towels and a toothbrush still in its package.
He paused, observing her through the shower glass before averting his eyes again. “I just thought you’d need these.”
“Thanks.”
It was funny that they were still playing shy.
He slowly placed the items on the sink but didn’t seem to be in a rush to run out. In fact, it was quite obvious that he was loitering.
She remained silent, focusing on the comfort of shower and the feel of the water running down her arms. Of course, she wanted him to stay, but she wasn’t going to put herself out there again. Everyone had betrayed her, hurt her—cast her aside.
He stood in front of the sink and started absently rearranging his countertop belongings.
“Do you want to…” he began, but he trailed off.
She peeked out at him through the steam-filled room, which was quickly becoming a tropical oasis.
“What?” she asked.
Jake looked at her, and she couldn’t look away. His haunting eyes enchanted her every time, weakening her resolve. Tempting her to throw her resolutions away.
“Do you want to talk?”
His question made her lips part in disbelief.
Talk? He wanted to talk?
“What do you want to talk about?” she probed, washing herself with the lemony suds.
“Anything you want.” He leaned on the bathroom counter. “Anything you want to know.”
He was taking steps toward her. He was trying. She could recognize that.
She flipped off the water and peeled open the glass shower door as he helped her out and toweled her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pushed back the wet hair that had fallen on her forehead and planted the lightest kiss, causing everything inside her to awaken and grow in awareness.
It wasn’t the shower that had made her feel alive—it was him.
“You’ve asked me about what happened when I was in the SEALs.”
“And you made it clear that you weren’t prepared to confide in me.” Her voice carried the hurt she felt. “Or trust me.”
As the steam hugged them close, all she could taste was the warmth of the air, and all she could smell was his woody, masculine scent. He carried the outdoors with him, always. And she would always be reminded of that whenever she went into the woods.
“I am now,” he explained. “And it wasn’t ever about you, Aisha.” He took a deep breath. “Over a year ago, I was diagnosed with PTSD and honorably released from duty on doc’s orders.” Jake frowned. “I’ve been really losing it lately. You’ve opened up something inside me. Some sort of passion. Hunger. I don’t know a lot, but I know that I’ve failed you.”
PTSD? God. She looked up at the man before her, pouring his secrets out. Failed her? Is that what he thought?
His thumb delicately traced her mouth, and his gaze grew troubled. “Aisha, do you know anything about what I did for a living?”
“I’ve seen movies.” She shrugged. “So no, I guess.”
He let out a low laugh. “Hollywood loves to dramatize. The reality is far less glamorous and far more aggravating.”
Aisha studied his camouflage eyes as they changed from clear to stormy.
“I had to kill people—a lot of people. But not every op was black and white. Sometimes I had specific targets to execute. Sometimes I found myself in a shit fight, and I had to use my judgment. That was where things got messy. I’ve seen guys put bullets into enemies that were bleeding out, enemies that were dead, even picking off civilians because they looked threatening.”
“And that’s not okay?”
“No. War is shit, but there are supposed to be rules.” He held her close, and she realized his arms had tightened around her.
Like he was holding on for dear life.
“There are two distinct camps in the SEALs. One camp says we need to adhere to the Geneva Conventions, the established rules of war,” he said. “The other camp feels a little differently about how war has changed.”
“And where do you stand?” she asked softly.
“That’s what I hate to admit. I’m in the latter camp. War isn’t two countries fighting it out in a conventional pattern anymore. Our enemies don’t wear uniforms and advertise themselves to us. They don’t give a fuck about our guys if they take prisoners.” He shook his head. “When I was in Iraq, man, Daesh did terrible, terrible things to people. And when I saw that, I fucking snapped.”
“What did you do?”
Jake shook his head, and she could tell he didn’t want to continue. But he swallowed hard and pushed himself forward. He was distraught, but he was getting it out, and that’s what mattered to her.
“There was this ISIL fighter, bleeding out against a wall in Mosul. I’d fucking shot him at a distance, but I had to approach to make sure. When I got there, I recognized him. I’d tried to free his female slaves the day prior, but he got to them first and shot them all as they tried to flee.” Jake’s eyes closed. “So it was just me and him behind a burnt-out building in Mosul. I’m ashamed of what I did.”
His breath was ragged and tight. She could feel how painful the memory was for him.
“I fucking tortured him,” he whispered. “I took my knife and dug out the bullets, relishing in his pain, and then I fucking slit his throat and watched him bleed. All those women that he imprisoned and raped endlessly…”
She looked up and saw the wetness around his eyes. But he blinked quickly and it dissolved, leaving only bloodshot eyes that were more haunted than she’d ever seen. Haunted and full of empathy for all the suffering he’d seen and failed to do anything about.
“Okay,” she replied, not knowing a single word to say.
“My boss saw it. Blackshot.” He closed his eyes again. “But he laughed like I’d done good, and welcomed me to the club of fucked-up shit.”
His arms slid down her body as she felt him falling away from her, but she immediately grabbed him, holding onto him instead. It was clear as day that he’d endured significant trauma as a result of what he’d seen and done.
That’s why he didn’t want to be called a hero.
Her face pressed into his masculine-smelling neck, and she held him silently for a few moments, letting him breathe through the pain. She’d seen her share of terrifying things, but nothing close to the reality this man had lived for over a decade.
As the steam cleared in the bathroom, Aisha knew it was her time to speak. He’d confided some dark secrets, and trusted her with it all. That meant everything to her, and it validated how she felt about him. Those feelings were mutual. He believed she was strong enough to hear it and carry it with him. She was strong enough to stand beside him and hold him.
Nothing made her feel stronger than being treated that way—like a warm-blooded woman with integrity and purpose instead of a fragile doll.
30
Standing close in the small basement bathroom, hiding from everything that threatened to pull him and Aisha apart for good, Jake closed the gap between their mouths and took hers once again with his. His hands roamed up her back, digging in to massage her. Aisha moaned, her eyes rolling as he kissed he
r and worked on the pain in her back.
“You are tense.” He grinned as they kissed. “Wonder why.”
Her lips curled in response. “Well, it has been stressful.”
He nearly laughed, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders. Confiding in Aisha hadn’t magically dissolved his burden, but now she joined him in holding it up. And kissing her in that small space was all he had to keep him sane.
She cared, and that turned him on in ways he’d never imagined. Within seconds of playing with her pouty, red lips, his cock hardened with that unmanageable arousal she inspired in him. He gripped her wet hair with one hand, and with the other, he dropped her towel. Kissing her again before she could protest, he allowed his hand to roam freely, touching and clutching whatever he pleased.
She submitted to him fully, tugging at his sweater to pull it off. He helped her, not wanting to waste another second, and stripped everything from his body.
“Did you miss me?” He spun her around until she grabbed the edge of the countertop.
“Maybe.” She played coy. “Maybe not.”
That enticed a laugh out of him. He pushed her head firmly, bending her over the counter. His free hand pushed her legs apart as he stood behind her, and she obeyed every demand. Jake knew Aisha loved it when he was in control. And she knew how to submit to him.
“Why would you miss me?” he said, palming the rock-hard ridge of his cock.
With her ass facing up and her body bent over the counter, his free hand guided itself down her slit toward her wet opening. Something about being around her turned him on instantly. Something about her sweet voice. Her heavenly smell. Her eyes. Her touch.
“Because I like you,” she moaned as he touched her.
He pushed one finger into her opening, and she arched to allow him easier access. He pulled her hair down further, preventing her from moving at all.
Guarding Aisha Page 20