Speed King (Men of Action)

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Speed King (Men of Action) Page 12

by Ahren Sanders


  “Let’s do that again.”

  “Not on your life. My days of spying are over. I can’t speak for Jewls, but I learned my lesson.”

  “Don’t be too embarrassed, Jay. It worked out pretty well, don’t you think?” Ford goads her.

  She peers up at me through her eyelashes and nods. “Yes, I think it did.”

  “I’m not sure what a sex kitten sprocket looks like,” I admit.

  “They’re exaggerating.”

  “Somehow, I doubt it.”

  “Maybe I’ll add it to my list of surprises,” she says low enough for only me to hear.

  The air in the room changes, her words full of much more than just promise. I lean down, touching my lips to hers. “So much to look forward to.”

  She grins, taking a sip of her wine and turning back to them. “Are you guys eating with us?”

  “I’m sure they have plans.” My icy tone backfires immediately. They exchange a glance and say “sure” at the same time.

  Dipshits.

  “We’re grilling.” I jerk my head to the back door, which is their cue to leave.

  When they’re gone, she wraps an arm around my neck and runs her fingers through my hair. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “That they’re crashing our night?”

  “It’s not crashing if I invited them. And besides, I like this. Being with your friends, joking, hanging out. They’re a part of you and know so much that I don’t about your life.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  She hesitates for a second and I wait her out, pretty sure what’s on her mind. “The tattoos. On your left pecs, near your heart, they’re all the same. I saw the similarities with Major last week in the pool. I thought it was a coincidence. But it’s not, is it?”

  “No, it’s not a coincidence.”

  “What do they mean?”

  “They’re the dates we walked away alive from specific missions.”

  “You have an extra date.”

  “I do.”

  She places her other hand on my chest, covering the spot where my ink is. I can see the question forming in her mind, and my gut tightens, waiting for her to ask the inevitable. “Why?”

  “Tattoos are personal for their own reasons. Mine all have importance. The first date in my sequence is a day I’ll never forget because it’s the day I met you.”

  A soft shine pools in her eyes, and she sets down her wine, sliding her hand under my shirt and lifting the material. The pads of her fingers trace the date inked directly over my heart. “I love that.”

  My skins prickles with each swirl over the numbers as she stares as if it’s the most important thing in the world.

  “Achilles?” My name comes out faint and raspy, making me wonder if she’s close to crying.

  “What, baby?”

  “Since you like to haul me around, I suggest you carry me outside before I wrestle you to the ground and put all my effort into slaughtering your self-restraint on the kitchen floor.”

  “I can do that.” I scoot her forward and she falls into me, kissing the skin on my chest before releasing my shirt.

  “She’s pretty special.” Ford takes a swing of his beer, watching me closely.

  I move my gaze to Harley, who’s sitting across from Talon by the fire pit, moving her hands in the air as she tells him something that has a relaxed grin on his face. “If that’s how you want to put it.”

  “How would you put it?”

  “I’m not going there. You know what she means to me.”

  “She seemed pretty excited about us applying to SWAT.”

  “She’s not only a cop’s daughter; she also wants me to be happy. Same with the three of you.”

  “Talon told me what Hal said last week.”

  I sigh, bringing my attention back to him. “Are we shooting the shit after dinner, or are we pussyfooting around something?”

  “Both. I want you to know none of us will think any differently if you change your mind.”

  I swallow half my beer in one gulp. “We’re in this together. I’m not changing my mind.”

  “This Reserve thing may be hard on your relationship, especially with the deal we made. I’m guessing you haven’t told her about that yet.”

  “I’m working on it. We’ve had a lot to talk about. She knows we have drills the weekend after next. Since I can’t give her details of our commitment, I can’t exactly tell her what we signed up for. Besides, it’s a long shot we’re going back over there.”

  “Man, you love her, and that’s a good thing. If the time comes and we get called back, I’ll do whatever I can to take your place. Don’t put her—”

  “Stop. Don’t finish that sentence.” My bottle slams loud enough for Talon’s eyes to slice my way. “We’re a team. Harley is in my life, but that doesn’t change the man I am. Never forget that.”

  “The offer stands. We got your six.”

  “Do you want me to fuck you up with my girlfriend twenty feet away?” I glare at him.

  He stares at me a beat, then finishes his beer, tosses it in the trash, and reaches in the fridge for three more, passing me the bottle of wine. “Nah, we’re done shooting the shit. Time to go see if Talon has stolen your woman.”

  “Not a fucking chance.” I follow him to the seating area, and she flashes me a smile. “Hand me your glass, babe.”

  I fill her up, setting the bottle on the ground and sliding in behind her. She shivers, scooting closer and laying her head on my shoulder. “Did you forget to mention something, Achilles?”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Talon told me about the party next weekend.”

  I’m not sure I’d call it a party, considering all three of the guys’ parents are descending upon us. Talon and Major’s parents had made reservations at a hotel, but when Celia Whitman found out, she stepped into high gear, insisting everyone stay here. Last I heard, she and Doug were flying in Thursday night so she could spend Friday stocking the house for what she referred to as a celebration.

  “I had other things on my mind when we got here.” My lips brush her earlobe.

  Talon coughs and Ford openly chuckles.

  “But since the subject came up, I want you to invite Rich and Amanda for Saturday night.”

  Ford nods in agreement.

  “Jewls is welcome as well,” Major adds.

  “She’ll love it.”

  “Tell her to pack a bag. She can stay.”

  “Oh, no. We’ll go home. It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to stay. This is a family weekend.”

  The carefree mood in the air instantly crisps, and my head pops up at the same time the guys hit their feet. Harley scoots back, looking between us. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, gonna let Ace handle this.” Talon flicks his fingers as he walks away.

  “I’ll come back in an hour to handle the fire,” Ford offers before heading toward the house.

  “Appreciate it,” I call, taking her wine and putting it on the side table next to my beer.

  “Did I say something?” She stares after them.

  I straighten, hook an arm around her middle, and lay her across my lap. “You aren’t going home.”

  She crinkles her eyes in confusion. “What?”

  “Next weekend, the weekend after that, any fucking time you want to be here, you are here.”

  “Okay, I get that. But between the Simms, the Powers, and the Whitmans, this house will be bursting at the seams with people. Not to mention, this is the Whitmans’ home. It’s not appropriate—”

  “How old am I?” I cut her off.

  “Twenty-nine in November.”

  “Twenty-nine. The other guys are almost thirty. We are men, Jay. Our living arrangements may be unconventional, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re men. We have our own space, we pay our way, and the moment we moved in, it became ours. That is a directive from the Whitmans. They know the men we are. None of us plan to
live here forever, but it’s a convenience we are grateful for.”

  “What if I am more comfortable going home?”

  “Then that’s an entirely different conversation. But if you think you’re going home because it’s inappropriate, forget it.”

  “I was trying to be polite!”

  “You want to be polite, offer them a drink when they walk in the door and welcome them.”

  “I don’t even live here. That would be incredibly awkward.”

  “Going back to the fact that I live here, and with me comes you.”

  “That is bizarre logic.” She tries to sound strong, but the fire fades from her glare. “These people don’t even know me.”

  “They know me and they will love you.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “No pressure. Invite Rich, Amanda, and Jewls. Like you said, it’s a family weekend. Talon’s right. If Jewls wants to stay, she’s welcome.”

  “I’ll mention it.” Her hands move to frame my face, and she scales her nails through the stubble. She remains quiet, her expression thoughtful as the flames of the fire crackle and pop a few feet away. My mind travels back to countless nights on bases. I’d sit with men and women, listening to them reminisce about home and stare into the embers, wondering about her.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “The endless amount of times I’ve sat around a fire wishing I was doing exactly what I’m doing now, holding you in my arms.”

  She inhales softly, running the pad of her thumb along my bottom lip. “The hidden facets of my Achilles.”

  “Facets?”

  “Intense, bossy, guarded, possessive beyond belief, soft, sweet, reflective, protective… all of them.”

  “I’m not sure anyone has ever referred to me as soft and sweet.”

  “That’s because you give that to me. Did I mention tempting? Hot? Unbelievably sexy?”

  “That describes you.”

  She kisses me lightly, then settles back, moving a hand to my chest. “You know there’s a fireplace in your room.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “We could put a fluffy rug on your floor for when it gets too cold to sit out here. The weather’s changing already.”

  “The term fluffy rug hits hard at my masculinity.”

  “Not sure it’s possible your masculinity could take a hit.”

  “We’ll see,” I half-commit, nuzzling into her neck so she can’t see my grin.

  Looks like I’ll be buying a new rug tomorrow.

  12

  Harley

  “Are you falling asleep again?” Ace’s smooth voice rumbles in my ear.

  I shake my head.

  “Then you want to tell me what’s on your mind?”

  No, I don’t want to tell him what’s on my mind. Because what I’m thinking about is exactly what my next moves are to break his will of steel. So far, nothing has worked.

  Last night didn’t go exactly as planned, considering I fell asleep in his lap by the fire and he carried me to bed. The skimpy silk pajamas I bought remained packed in my overnight bag because I was too tired to go through the effort. Instead, I took the shirt off his back–literally— shed my clothes to put it on, stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then into bed. He curled in beside me a few minutes later, and I passed out on his chest.

  This morning, I woke up sprawled half on top of him, my calf twisted around his thigh. He was already awake, his fingers weaving lightly through my hair. Even in my drowsy state, I couldn’t miss the hardness pressing against my knee. My hand skimmed down his bare chest, and right when I hit the waistband, he stopped my exploration by clutching my wrist and yanking it back to his chest.

  That was the first, but not the only time he stopped me today. I know little about the game of seduction, but I am pretty sure I’m failing at it. Years of paying for my Cosmo subscription have gotten me nowhere.

  Tonight, he’d suggested the hot tub, and it seemed like the perfect plan. My heart skipped a beat when I walked out of his bathroom and his eyes turned molten at the sight of my barely-there midnight blue bikini.

  This was by far my most revealing piece of clothing outside of complete nudity. Truth be told, I am practically naked. Jewls told me about a store that specializes in stunning lingerie and swimwear. I am pretty sure they meant this bikini for an exotic dancer, but I bought it anyway. The look of savage hunger that took over made every penny worth it. His eyes darted from me to the bed, and I knew I had him.

  Instead of throwing me on the bed, he threw me over his shoulder and stalked out his side door to the Jacuzzi.

  I sighed in defeat, but wasn’t ready to give up.

  So, now I’m leaning quietly on his chest, trying to figure out a way to seduce my boyfriend without resorting to begging.

  “Like your suit, Jay.” He breaks into my thoughts.

  My head pops up, and I catch the smug grin playing on his lips.

  “You noticed?”

  “Hard not to.”

  “Could have fooled me.” My reply comes out a little too whiny.

  His grin turns into a full-out smile, and in one quick move, he’s twisted me to straddle him. He thrusts his hips upward, the hard length of him rubbing directly between my legs. Since the bottoms of the suit are all string except for one scrap of triangle, the friction hits me in the right spot and I swallow a moan.

  “And your yoga outfit was sweet, too. It’s a good thing Erik is gay and the class is full of women or I’d never have left you there.”

  A thrill slides up my spine when he toys with the tie at my neck.

  “The one-piece thing was hot, too.”

  “Romper,” I croak when his finger traces over the swell of my breast to make his point. The romper I wore today was more fitted than usual, with long flowy sleeves, a deep V at the neck, and a belt that helped me bunch it up so short, the cheeks of my butt were close to showing. At normal length, the shorts would have been decent, but I made it obscene.

  “I walked behind you the whole time with my eyes glued to your ass. I was hard as a steel thinking about how perfect that ass is.”

  He rocks his hips again.

  “Ahhhhh,” I whimper at the sensation, driving my own hips downward.

  “If you thought I was possessive before, you have no idea after watching you strut around all day. Those legs should come with a warning.”

  He’s right. I strutted, pranced, frolicked, and sashayed through the day, hoping to get a reaction. A new thrill washes through me.

  “You could have fooled me.” This time, the statement comes out throaty and almost breathless because he leans down to trace his lips along the teeny patch of material covering one nipple.

  “You were playing a game with me. A game I enjoyed. But you should know something. Nothing you wore today to tease me was as fucking gorgeous as waking up to you in my bed in my t-shirt, your sorry excuse for panties, and having your body tangled with mine.”

  “You didn’t seem too interested in me then, either.”

  “We both know that isn’t true.”

  “You cock blocked me.”

  He grins against my breast, rubbing his stubble against the skin that is scorching under his touch. “Not sure I’d call it that, but hearing the word cock come from your mouth is sexy.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Enjoying your persistence.”

  “You locked me out of the bathroom!” I’m grateful for the dim light, so he can’t see my face blazing at the mortifying admission. During my yoga class, he went for a run to pass the hour. Back at the house, he promptly headed to his shower, announcing he’d hurry so I could have the bathroom to get ready for our shopping trip.

  Boldness came over me, and I attempted to join him, only to find he’d locked the door. He came out fifteen minutes later fully dressed, and I was casually scrolling through my phone. Neither he nor I mentioned the locked barrier, and in my mind, it was staying that w
ay to avoid further embarrassment. Until right now when my big mouth blurted it out.

  “I cut my run short to come back and watch you at yoga. Only so much a man can take. Even a cold shower didn’t help. For the second time in four days, I visualized you while taking care of myself.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. A rush of satisfaction replaces the earlier embarrassment.

  “It was its own form of fucking torture waiting to have you alone tonight and see what you had planned for this piece of fabric.”

  His hands glide over my shoulders, down my arms, and slip into the water, going straight for my ass. He leans up, sweeping his lips across mine until I release my bottom lip from my teeth and give in to his kiss. My arms go around his shoulders, my chest arching into his so almost every part of us is touching. The hot water bubbles around us, scorching my already overheated skin as he grips my flesh and grinds in a rhythm with his hips.

  It’s easy to lose myself, giving him control of our bodies moving together. He slows the kiss, sucking my tongue deeper into his mouth. He groans down my throat when I score my nails along his shoulder blades, thrusting down harder. The thin triangle of fabric snaps, and the second my skin comes in contact with the soft material of his swimsuit, sparks shoot through me.

  I tear my mouth from his and shove my head into his neck, sliding back and forth over him.

  “Baby.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me we have to stop.”

  One hand loosens, sliding over my hip, pelvic bone, and between my legs to cup me. Two fingers run gently along my sensitive skin until one slips easily inside. My muscles instantly contract, gripping his finger as I whimper into his skin.

  Every muscle in his body tenses as his hand freezes. I try to swivel my hips, but the hand cupping my butt grips tighter.

  “Baby, look at me.”

  I do as he asks, and my already racing heart threatens to leap out of my chest at his expression.

  “Harley, baby…”

  Without asking, I tell what he wants to hear. “I’m...”

  “You haven’t ever been with anyone?”

 

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