Speed King (Men of Action)

by Ahren Sanders

  I may be a grown man, built solid and mentally tough, but the feel of his arms tightening and hearing his statement touches deep inside.

  There’s another whimper, this time louder, and he releases me, glancing down the hall. “You have a dog back there?”

  A half- laugh escapes while I shake my head. “Nah, more like a five-foot-five, auburn-haired firecracker.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Harley is here?”

  “Apparently. Give me a second, be right back.”

  I head down the hall, catching a flash of white before it disappears into my room. When I hit the door, Harley’s standing in front of my fireplace with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  My gut screws uncomfortably at the sight. As long as I’ve known her, I’ve only witnessed her crying a handful of times.

  When I left for boot camp.

  When her grandfather died.

  When she discovered why I avoided her for those years.

  Now she’s crying for me.

  “Baby, why the tears?”

  “Do you really forgive him?” she asks hoarsely.

  “I do.”

  For the second time in a matter of minutes, I’m engulfed in a tight embrace. She hoists herself up, wrapping her legs around me. Her hands cup my jaw and she peppers my face with kisses.

  “I’m proud of you too, Achilles. You’re amazing.”

  “Not sure about that.”

  “Seriously, letting it go must be a relief. Carrying that kind of weight all this time isn’t healthy.”

  “I didn’t think about it much.”

  She pulls back, her eyes scrunched in disbelief. “You didn’t?”

  “Not really. It was what it was.”

  “But today you forgave him?”

  “Seeing as you heard everything, I meant what I said about him getting help. That takes courage. I’ve always felt that way, but today it was time to tell him.”

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was in the kitchen when he rang the bell. Then I heard you approach him on the porch. When y’all came inside, I stayed close in case it got out of hand.”

  “Appreciate you having my back, but it wasn’t getting out of hand.”

  “Another reason you’re outstanding.” She plants a hard quick kiss on my lips, then loosens her hold. “I should get dressed to go say hello.”

  I don’t let go, hitching her up and sliding my hands to her ass, feeling the bare skin under the oversized shirt. “Let’s talk about what you’re doing here.”

  “I knew you were running, so I came over to surprise you. With our work schedules, we haven’t seen each other in days.”

  “Baby, I see you every night at Tom’s before my shift.”

  “You watch me run around during the rush and settle for bits and pieces of conversation between slinging drinks. That’s not seeing each other.”

  My cock stirs, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “You telling me my dad showing up cock-blocked me from a booty call?”

  Her eyes pop, and she slaps her hand over my mouth. “Shhh! He’ll hear you!”

  “He won’t hear me, babe, but he’ll clue in when I tell him reunion time is over. My woman wants to get laid,” I mutter to her palm.

  “Stop!” The splotches flame pink. “It’s not a booty call. I set up to work here so we could have the day together.”

  I glance over her shoulder and spot her laptop and a stack of folders on the bed. “How’d you expect me to fuck you when your office is on the bed?”

  “Oh my God, can you stop?”

  “You’re in my arms, wearing nothing but my shirt. I haven’t had you alone in four days. If it wasn’t for my dad, that laptop would have been a casualty.”

  Her eyes flare, sparkling in a crystal glimmer. “Noted, next time I plan a surprise mission, I’ll place my things in a safer spot.”

  “Why don’t you do that now and I’ll get rid of him?”

  “No! He knows I’m here, and it’s rude not to go talk to him.”

  “Pretty sure his interruption is what’s rude. I could be inside you right now.”

  She chews on her bottom lip, scanning over my face. “Good point. But I still need to say hello. This is an important occasion.”

  “Your idea of important and mine are vastly different.” I thrust up to prove my point.

  “Achilles.” She tries to sound strong, but there’s a wispiness in her tone.

  “As much as I want to back you into the wall, there’s no way I can fuck you like I want with him waiting in the living room. Get dressed, we’ll go speak to him, and then when he’s gone, you’ll get your chance to carry out your booty call.”

  “Quit saying that or your day of surprises will take a drastic turn.”

  My hand slides lower, my fingers skimming along the folds of her pussy. Her breath hitches and thighs clutch tighter. “Look forward to what you have planned.”

  I lean in, crashing my lips to hers. She whimpers low when my tongue sweeps around her mouth. That sound, her taste, the warmth of her wrapped around me, has my dick hard as steel and throbbing. I tear myself away, easing her to her feet.

  “This is not fair. I’m supposed to be seducing you.”

  “I’m about four seconds away from kicking him out. Get dressed or I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

  She shuffles away, digging in her bag on my dresser and rushing into the bathroom. My cock is no longer an issue as I stare at the bag. She comes out dressed in frayed jean shorts with my shirt tucked in the front, hanging low in the back.

  The familiar sense of possessiveness rears up. Before I can say anything, she takes my hand and pulls me along.

  Dad’s in the kitchen, staring into the back yard. When he hears us, his head swings our way, his gaze dropping to our joined hands, and it’s impossible to miss the warmth in his smile.

  “Harley, sweetheart, you are a vision.”

  She releases my hand and moves to his outstretched arms. “Hey, Mr. Kingston.”

  “Pete, honey. Call me Pete.”

  “Okay, Pete. How are you?” She braces, holding on to his forearms and giving him her blinding smile.

  “I’m great. Didn’t know you were living here.”

  “I’m not.” She shakes her head rapidly, stepping out of his embrace. “I parked around back. Achilles has a private entrance to his room. My job allows me to work remotely, and today I set up my office here.”

  The timing sucks, but I don’t hold back what’s on my mind. “The dresser has three empty drawers. You need more, I’ll go through and clean out. I can rearrange the closet any way you want to fit your things.”

  She jolts, her eyes crinkling. “Pardon?”

  “I hate your bag.” I reach out and tug her back to me.

  “You hate my bag?”

  “I hate what it stands for. You shouldn’t have to pack your things to come here. I want you to have a stash of things here, so you always have what you need. Not only the soaps and shampoos. I want you to walk in my door and know you have everything here without packing a fucking bag.”

  “I-I… ummm, packing doesn’t bother me. I never know what I’m in the mood for. And three empty drawers and a portion of your closet is more than a stash.”

  “The more the better.”

  “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Nothing to talk about.”

  “Now is not the time. We’ll discuss it when your dad isn’t here to see me lose my mind at your absurdity.”

  “Doesn’t seem absurd to me,” Dad pitches his support.

  Her eyes flame, swinging between us. “Shacking up with my boyfriend in a house of four bachelors is not sane!”

  “Three bachelors. As you mentioned, I’m spoken for,” I correct her and fight my grin when her nails dig into my side.

  “It’s going to be four if you don’t shut don’t this ridiculous, and very private, conversation.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve
mentioned it?” Dad asks me, ignoring her.

  “Yes.”

  “Is she close to blowing up?”

  “Quite possibly.”

  “Maybe you should finesse it better, explain the benefits.”

  “With my shifts, we have three nights a week together. I’d hope she understands the benefits.”

  “Hello! I’m right here, hearing everything you’re saying. And I don’t need finessing. Achilles has a way of telling instead of asking.”

  At the mention of my name, his chin jerks. “She still calls you Achilles?”

  “The only person in this world who does. And honestly, the only person I want to.”

  The intensity of her nails ease, and her hands flatten on my chest. “Don’t try to sweeten your way out of this.”

  “Either you do it, or I’ll go over and load a suitcase.”

  “You can’t get into my apartment. I have a security system.”

  I cock an eyebrow, not hiding my grin anymore. “I’m a cop and a Marine. I have my ways.”

  “I can skate out of work tomorrow if you need help,” Dad adds, and that’s what pushes her to the edge.

  Her hands fly in the air, and she drops her head back, screaming at the ceiling. “MEN!”

  Dad chuckles. I take the opportunity to run my lips along the column of her neck. Her head pops back up, and she shoots me an evil smirk before twisting to Dad.

  “Don’t—“ is barely out of my mouth before she intercedes.

  “Pete, we’d love if you’d stay and join us for a late breakfast.”

  His smug grin is his answer. Fucker is enjoying the hell out of this.

  The hard slam of the locker ricochets around the room, and a few veteran cops turn my way, giving me ‘the look’ that they’ve been in my shoes.

  “What did that locker do to you?”

  I spear Ford with a hard glare, not in the mood for his shit. He ignores it, slinging his gym bag across his chest and shutting his own locker.

  “You were there. She needs to get out and leave his ass.”

  “I’ll gladly take drunk and disorderly and barroom brawls over a domestic. At least D&D’s get the sober tank and usually have remorse when they dry out.”

  “We need to talk to her again. Let’s swing by on our way home.”

  “No,” he deadpans, his expression hard.

  “No?”

  “No, Ace. There are countless reasons that’s a bad idea.”

  “Did you miss the marks on her arms? They’ll be bruises by now.”

  “I didn’t fucking miss them, nor the already fading bruises on her legs. But we can’t make her press charges. Shit, Ace, it was the neighbors who called it in. That woman isn’t in the right headspace.”

  “She’s being beaten by that low-life motherfucker.”

  “Yeah, she is. And that’s exactly what he is—a motherfucker. But she has to be the one to take action. Unless we catch him in the act, or she presses charges, we’re at an impasse.”

  “It fucking blows.”

  Hal walks up, a file in his hand, his eyes angry. “Do I need to remind you two of protocol?”

  “Nope,” Ford affirms.

  I blow out an angry breath as my answer.

  “Good, because regardless of being badass soldiers who have experienced more action on the ground than most the cops in this department, you’re rookies.”

  Something in the way he says it puts my instincts on alert. “Rookies are still cops.”

  “Yes, but there’s a difference. You’re my rookie, under my guidance, and I won’t stand for skating lines.”

  “Jesus, Hal. A woman’s being beaten; some lines need to be skated.”

  He casts a glance over his shoulder to check if we are alone. The other guys are ghosts.

  “You bet your ass lines need to be skated.” His voice goes low and acidic. “This wasn’t an isolated event. One look and it’s obvious that man married up. Seen too many like him in my career. Wealthy, spoiled, and thinks his shit doesn’t stink. Bad combination. Don’t know how he landed her. My guess is he used money and influence enough to sway her, then put that rock on her finger the first chance he got. Punk ass like that needs to be taught a lesson.”

  “That sounds more like a protocol I’m familiar with.” Ford rocks back on his heels.

  “What are you suggesting?” I cross my arms, scanning Hal’s face.

  “Officially, all paperwork is processing. I signed off that it was a false alarm domestic and the neighbor misunderstood the shouting. Unofficially, I have a new file with that woman’s name on it.” He waves the folder.

  For the first time since we received the call-out at midnight, the tension in my shoulders loosens. “What ya got?”

  “Not much yet. The good news is her medical file is clean. Except for a nasty case of pneumonia last year that put her in the hospital, there’ve been no reports of abuse.”

  “That doesn’t mean dick.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But interestingly, there also isn’t a record of her marriage, either. My gut tells me we’re dealing with a narcissistic SOB that’s put a phony symbol on her for control.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Nothing.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but he points the corner of the file my way. “Nothing yet. Seen women like her before, and she is mortified. If the abuse has just begun, she may process and, in her own way, figure out how to leave the asshole. But I’ll be digging more into this guy.”

  “Keep us updated,” Ford requests.

  “Yeah, you’re not officially under my guidance, but I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  Ford’s phone chimes, and his eyes slice my way. The little tension that seeped away ricochets back up my spine. I grab my bag from the bench, ready to move.

  “Thanks, Hal. Catch ya on Thursday.”

  “Actually, you’ll see me tomorrow night. Amanda’s been on the line, calling all the wives. Tomorrow night, ladies’ night at Tom’s. Reba arranged for her parents to take the kids, which means she plans to blow it out. Last time my wife blew it out proved in my favor. My ass will be at Tom’s with Rich and the other men watching the game while the women do whatever they do.”

  I can’t help my lip twitch, knowing exactly how a drunk Reba ‘proved in his favor’. Jewls and Harley finally wore down Tom on the ladies’ night concept, and tomorrow is the official kick-off. Harley’s been promoting like crazy.

  “See you then. We need to go,” Ford breaks in abruptly.

  I flick a hand and follow Ford to his truck, not speaking until we’re on the road. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing good. Talon got a message from Willie. He’s calling in thirty.”

  At the name Willie, my entire body strings solid. All thoughts of the past shift disappear.

  Willie is one of our guys. Well, technically, he was our Lieutenant Colonel. And is currently our connection to MARSOC. When we all left, he was the one who came to us with a proposition. A proposition we agreed to without a second thought. No questions, no hesitancy, no delays. Department of Defense, the Secretary of the Navy, and who-the-fuck-ever step in to take care of the details, and we do the mission.

  So, him calling in thirty means something is up. Something that requires briefing the four of us.

  “Fuck.” I scrub a hand down my face.

  “Exactly.”

  There’s no time to question further when my phone rings with Harley’s morning call. “Baby—”

  “You’re upset.”

  “I’m fine. Rough night, but it’s over.”

  “Did you get shot at, chased, threatened, or hit on?”

  I chuckle lightly at the last part. “None of the above.”

  “Just bad shit?”

  “Bad shit,” I confirm.

  “Do you need me?”

  The answer is yes, but she has to work, and even though she can set up in the space in my room, there’s Willie’s call to deal with.

  “I always need
you, but I’m good. Got a few things to handle, then gonna crash for hours.”

  “You’re not heading to the gym?”

  “Running then bringing you lunch.”

  “Right… soooo…” she trails off in a way that rouses my already hyper-alert mind. “My mom asked me to lunch.”

  “Cool, hang with her. I’ll be over around six to drive you to Tom’s. You’re at my place tonight.”

  “Well, that’s not all,” she stalls.

  “Harley, what’s up?”

  “We’re solid, right? Like super solid, more than the iceberg that sunk the Titanic, volcano rock, and the price of the fall collection of Louboutins?”

  I don’t even know what the fuck that is.

  “Baby, get to the point. I don’t even know what a Louboutin spring collection is.”

  “Fall collection! And it’s fabulous with a price tag that rivals anything else. They don’t budge on their pricing. It’s solid.”

  Well, shit, I’ll need to learn about this lo-bu-ton and find out what she wants in this collection. “We’re more solid than that.”

  She exhales loudly. “Okay, your mom calledmymomandsetupadateforlunchtodaybecauseshe’sgoinginsanewithouthearingfromyou.”

  I hear her but swallow hard again, attempting to drive down my irritation. “What the fuck?”

  “My mom…” she explains, and I cut her off.

  “I get it, but what the fuck? Mom knows better than that.”

  “She says you’re dragging your feet on planning a lunch.”

  “She’s playing dirty trying to force my hand on this.”

  “Didn’t you talk to her last week?”

  “Through text. She asked me again to meet up, and I told her we’d plan something.”

  “And then you didn’t follow through.”

  “It’s only been a week.”

  “Sweetie,” her tone is gentle, and I know what she’s about to say before she says it. “You’ve been back in town a lot longer than a week. She’s your mom. She is curious about your life. And she knows you’ve made amends with Pete, so she’s impatient.”

  “Christ,” I gripe.

  “I’ll cancel.”

  “No, keep the plans, and I’ll be there.”

  “You will? Don’t you need to sleep?”

  “I’ll pick you up at eleven-thirty. Choose a place that serves more than salads.”