by Katie Reus
Her legs tightened around his waist as she held herself up against his body. They had too many damn clothes in the way. Before his shirt had hit the floor, he’d tugged her sweater off and had her flat on her back against the blankets. She wore a lacy blue bra that she removed before he could blink. Her perfect pink nipples hardened under his gaze and his entire body tightened.
Sitting back on his heels he held up a hand when she made a move to go for the button on his pants. “Let me undress you, enjoy you. Just for a few seconds I want to see all of you,” he rasped out. He wanted more than a few seconds but he knew neither of them would last that long without being fully joined.
It had been a long time and he wanted to savor the visual of his mate completely bared to him.
Moving efficiently, he tugged her knee-high boots, socks, and jeans off. As he removed them he realized she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath and his cock pulsed. Stretched out on the blankets, Larissa placed her hands behind her head in a casual pose as she watched him with a heavy-lidded gaze. Her dark hair fanned out along the blankets and pillows. Her knees were bent slightly and she spread her legs, giving him a perfect view of her bare mound. Under the candle and firelight, her skin seemed to glow. His throat tightened as he drank in the sight of her completely naked and all his.
“I’ve thought of this so many times.” His voice was a whisper as he remembered all the lonely nights he’d spent without her. Of all the years without his mate.
“You don’t have to imagine it anymore,” she said, pushing up to a sitting position. Not giving him any more time, Larissa grabbed the button of his pants and ripped it free.
Smiling at how her hands actually shook, he shoved his pants off and had her pinned beneath him in seconds. She arched her back, her full breasts rubbing against his chest. The sensation of her already hard nipples moving against him had him moaning into her mouth.
He gently squeezed one of her breasts as he slid a hand between their bodies and cupped her mound. Using one finger he stroked against her slit and found her soaking wet already. He’d scented her desire the entire ride over, but to feel it made his brain short-circuit.
Dipping two fingers into her, he shuddered at the feel of her slick sheath tightening around him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she slid her hands down the length of his back and squeezed his ass. Her nails dug into him as she tried to urge him on faster.
That, he could oblige. Part of him wanted to tease her, to drag this out forever, but the hungriest, most primal part of him wouldn’t allow it.
He’d been denied his female for too long. As he pulled his fingers out of her, one of her hands reached between them and she wrapped her fingers around his cock. Wordlessly, she arched her back and shifted their bodies so that his cock was aligned perfectly at her entrance. Her breathing was ragged as she waited for him to move.
In one quick thrust he plunged deep into her. Her fangs descended as he buried himself fully inside her. An uncontrollable shudder rolled through him. The feel of being inside her after so long was almost too much. He’d never thought this would happen again, never imagined it as a possibility. His whole body pulled taut as he restrained himself from losing it.
Continuing to caress one of her breasts, he began thrusting into her in an unsteady rhythm. Each time he drove into her tight body, her inner walls squeezed tighter and tighter around him. She feathered kisses along his jaw before she raked her teeth over his neck. The sensation was sending his body into overload.
His own canines descended at the feel of her erotic little nips and kisses. It didn’t matter that tradition demanded he take her from behind while sinking his canines into her neck. Tonight he was doing what felt natural.
“Bite me while you come,” he ordered roughly.
“You too.” A harsh demand from the female he loved.
She was already so slick he knew it wouldn’t take long to push her over the edge. He was right there too, about to embarrass himself like a randy cub. He needed her to come first.
Reaching between them again, he tweaked her clit with his thumb and forefinger. As he started rubbing her sensitive bundle of nerves, she moaned before sinking her teeth into his neck.
There was no pain. Only pleasure. As her inner walls clenched around him and she cried out, finding her release, he let go and sank his canines into her neck.
His climax ripped through him, wave after wave seemingly never ending as the orgasm built and then crested into a free fall of pure pleasure. He had no idea how much time passed as they shuddered against each other, as he emptied himself inside her sweet body.
As he came down from his high, he gently licked the wounds on her neck at the same time she licked his, murmuring the sweetest endearments. Nuzzling her neck, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled to the side, but kept their bodies interlocked.
There was no way he was letting her go. As he pulled his head back from her neck, his eyes widened when he realized that all around them a faint blue fire burned. It wasn’t burning anything, just flickering around them like a protective shield.
“I couldn’t hold the fire back,” she murmured as she ran a hand down the length of his spine. Before he could respond, she dragged her body away from him.
His body immediately mourned the loss, until she rolled him over, practically shoving him face-first into the blankets. That was when he realized what she was doing. Her fingers skimmed over both his shoulders before her soft lips pressed against the spot that had once held his bondmate symbol.
He was almost too afraid to ask, but he found his voice. “Is it . . . there?”
She nodded against his back and when he felt wetness, he realized she was crying. Turning over, he pulled her on top of him as he rolled onto his back. He cupped her cheek with one hand as she stared down at him.
The love and joy in her gaze nearly overwhelmed him. “It’s a small blue flame.”
The first symbol had been Celtic knot work symbolizing unity, but this meant more to him. It was a symbol of her.
“I love you,” he rasped out.
“I love you too. Always and forever.” As a few stray tears fell down her cheeks, she brushed her lips over his.
There were some unknowns about their future, but nothing would ever separate them again. He wouldn’t allow it and he knew she wouldn’t either.
Acknowledgments
As always I owe a big thank-you to Kari Walker for reading the early version of Aiden’s story! I’m also grateful to my wonderful agent Jill Marsal. To my fabulous editor, Danielle Perez, thank you for your guidance with this series. And to the whole team at New American Library: Ashley Polikoff, Christina Brower, and Jessica Brock, I’m grateful for all the behind-the-scenes work that you do. The art department did a brilliant job with this cover—thanks to cover artist Craig White and designer Katie Anderson. In addition, I’m blessed with a husband and son who put up with my writer’s schedule, so more thanks are in order. For my readers, every day I’m appreciative of your support. Thank you for reading my books. Lastly, thank you to God.
Don’t miss the first book in the exciting Deadly Ops series by Katie Reus,
TARGETED
Now available from Signet Eclipse.
Prologue
Marine Corps Scout Sniper motto: one shot, one kill.
Sam Kelly could see his GP tent fifty yards away. He was practically salivating at the thought of a shower and a clean bed. But he’d settle for the fucking bed at this point. He didn’t even care that he was sharing that tent with twenty other men. Showers were almost pointless at this dusty military base in hellish sub-Saharan Africa anyway. By the time he got back to his tent from the showers, he’d be covered in a film of grime again.
Four weeks behind enemy lines with limited supplies and he was also starving. Even an MRE sounded good about now. As he trekked across the dry, cracked gro
und, he crossed his fingers that the beef jerky he’d stashed in his locker was still there, but he doubted it. His bunkmate had likely gotten to it weeks ago. Greedy fucker.
“There a reason you haven’t shaved, Marine?”
Sam paused and turned at the sound of the condescending unfamiliar voice. An officer—a lieutenant—he didn’t recognize stood a few feet away, his pale face flushed and his skin already burning under the hot sun. With one look Sam knew he was new in-country. Why the hell wasn’t the idiot wearing a boonie hat to protect his face? Hell, it had to be a hundred and thirty degrees right now. Yeah, this dick was definitely new. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hassling Sam.
Sam gave him a blank stare and kept his stance relaxed. “Yes, sir, there is. Relaxed grooming standards.” Dumb ass.
The blond man’s head tilted to the side just a fraction, as if he didn’t understand the concept. God, could this guy be any greener? The man opened his mouth again and Sam could practically hear the stupid shit he was about to spout off by the arrogant look on his face.
“Lieutenant! There a reason you’re bothering my boy?” Colonel Seamus Myers was barreling toward them, dust kicking up under his feet with each step.
The man reminded Sam of an angry bull, and when he got pissed, everyone suffered. He was a good battalion commander, though. Right now Sam was just happy the colonel wasn’t directing that rage at him. Guy could be a scary fucker when he wanted.
“No, sir. I was just inquiring about his lack of grooming.” The officer’s face flushed even darker under his spreading sunburn. Yeah, that was going to itch something fierce when it started peeling. Sam smiled inwardly at the thought.
“You’re here one week and you think you know more than me?”
“N-no, sir! Of course not, sir.”
The colonel leaned closer and spoke so low that Sam couldn’t hear him. But he could guess what he was saying because he’d heard it before. Stay the fuck away from Sam Kelly and the rest of my snipers or I’ll send you home. Rank definitely mattered, but to the colonel, his few snipers were his boys, and the man had been in more wars than Sam ever wanted to think about. Sam had seen and caused enough death himself to want to get out when his enlistment was up. That wasn’t too far off either. He’d been to Iraq, Afghanistan, a few places in South America that weren’t even on his official record, and now he was stationed in Djibouti, Africa. Or hell, as he liked to think of it. He loved his job and he loved his country, but enough was enough. Sam just wished he could figure out what the hell he wanted to do if he got out of the military.
He watched as the colonel started talking—loudly—to the new guy. Getting right in his face as only a pissed-off Marine could. Sam almost felt sorry for the guy, but what kind of stupid fucker didn’t know that since the environment here was so dirty that staph infections were rampant, grooming standards were different? That was one of the reasons he and a thousand other guys his age had relaxed grooming standards in the bowels of this hellish place. But they also cut him slack because he was a sniper. Sometimes he had to blend in with the populace, among other things. He might be stationed in Africa, but he’d just gotten back from—where else?—Afghanistan. He’d stayed holed up for days in that dank cave just waiting—
“Sergeant, in my tent. Now.”
Sam blinked and realized Colonel Myers was talking to him. He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The colonel was still reaming out whoever the newbie was, but Sam always followed orders. Looked as though that shower was going to wait. The walk to the big tent in the middle of the base was short.
As he drew the flap back and stepped into the colonel’s tent, he stilled when he spotted a dark-haired man leaning against a table with maps on it. He looked as if he thought he had every right to be there too. Interesting. A fly landed on Sam’s face, but he didn’t move. Just watched the man, ready to go for one of his weapons if need be. He didn’t recognize him and he wasn’t wearing a uniform.
Just simple fatigues and a T-shirt, which stretched across a clearly fit body even though the guy had to be pushing fifty. There was something about the man that put Sam on edge. He was like a tiger, coiled and waiting to rip your head off. The man’s eyes weren’t cold, exactly, but they were calculating.
Carefully the man reached for a manila folder next to him and flipped it open. He glanced down at it. “Sam Kelly. Originally from Miami, Florida. Grew up in foster care. No known family. One of the best damn snipers Myers has ever seen. Sniper school honor grad, aptitude for languages, takes orders well, possibly a lifer.” He glanced up then, his green eyes focusing on Sam like a laser. “But I don’t think you’re a lifer. You want a change, don’t you?” The man’s gaze was shrewd, assessing. Sam didn’t like being analyzed, especially by a stranger. And the guy didn’t even have an accent, so he couldn’t place where he might be from. Nothing in his speech stood out.
Who the hell was this guy? And how the fuck did he know Sam wanted a change? It wasn’t as if he’d told anyone. Sam ran through the list of possibilities. He’d been on different operations before, sometimes working for the CIA for solo things, and he’d been attached to various SEAL teams for larger-scale missions, but he’d never worked with this guy before. He did have Sam’s file, though—or Sam guessed that was his file in the man’s hand. He could just be bluffing. But what would the point of that be? He dropped all semblance of protocol since this guy clearly wasn’t a Marine. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“You did some good work in Cartagena a few years ago.” He snapped the file shut and set it back on the table.
Sam just stared at him. His statement said a lot all by itself. That mission wasn’t in his official jacket, so this guy knew classified shit and was letting Sam know it. But since he hadn’t asked a question or introduced himself, Sam wasn’t inclined to respond.
The man’s lips quirked up a fraction. As they did, the tent flap opened and the colonel strode in. He glared at the man, cursed, then looked at Sam, his expression almost speculative. He jerked a thumb at the stranger. “Whatever this guy tells you is the truth and he’s got top secret clearance.” He snorted, as if something was funny about that, then sobered. “And whatever you decide . . . Hell, I know what you’ll decide. Good luck, son. I’ll miss you.” He shook Sam’s hand, then strode out of the tent.
Miss him? What the hell is he talking about? Sam glared at the man in front of him. “I asked you once who you were. Answer or I’m out of here.”
The stranger crossed the short distance and held out his hand.
Sam ignored it.
The man cleared his throat and looked as if he was fighting a smile, which just pissed Sam off. “I’m Lieutenant General Wesley Burkhart, head of—”
“The NSA. I know the name.” Sam didn’t react outwardly, but the gears in his head were turning. “What do you want with me? I thought you guys were into cryptography and cyber stuff.”
“We are, but I’m putting together a team of men and women with a different skill set. Black ops stuff, similar to the CIA, but with fewer . . . rules. I want to offer you a job, but before I go any further, you need to know that if you come to work for me, Sam Kelly will cease to exist. You will leave your past and everything in it behind.”
Sam stared at the man, overwhelmed by too many feelings. Relief being one of them. Leaving his identity behind didn’t seem like such a bad thing at all. Finishing the rest of his enlistment in shitholes like this wasn’t something he looked forward to. He’d seen and caused so much death that sometimes he wondered if God would ever forgive him. The idea of wiping his record clean was so damn appealing. Maybe this was the fresh start he’d been looking for. Except . . . He touched the hog’s tooth hanging from his neck. He’d bled, sweated, and starved for this thing. For what it represented. It was part of him now. “I’m not taking this off. Ever.”
The other man’s eyes flicked to the bullet aroun
d his neck, and the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly. “Unless the op calls for it, I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Okay, then. Heart thudding, Sam dropped his rucksack to the ground. “Tell me everything I need to know.”
Chapter 1
Black Death 9 Agent: member of an elite group of men and women employed by the NSA for covert, off-the-books operations. A member’s purpose is to gain the trust of targeted individuals in order to gather information or evidence by any means necessary.
Five years later
Jack Stone opened and quietly shut the door behind him as he slipped into the conference room. A few analysts and field agents were already seated around the long rectangular table. One empty chair remained.
A few of the new guys looked up as he entered, but the NSA’s security was tighter than Langley’s. Since he was the only one missing from this meeting, the senior members pored over the briefs in front of them without even giving him a cursory glance.
Wesley Burkhart, his boss, handler, and recruiter all rolled into one, stuck his head in the room just as Jack started to sit. “Jack, my office. Now.”
He inwardly cringed because he knew that tone well. At least his bags were still packed. Once he was out in the hall heading toward Wesley’s office, his boss briefly clapped him on the back. “Sorry to drag you out of there, but I’ve got something bigger for you. Have you had a chance to relax since you’ve been back?”
Jack shrugged, knowing his boss didn’t expect an answer. After working two years undercover to bring down a human trafficking ring that had also been linked to a terrorist group in Southern California, he was still decompressing. He’d been back only a week and the majority of his time had been spent debriefing. It would take longer than a few days to wash the grime and memories off him. If he ever did. “You’ve got another mission for me already?”