Beyond the Limit

by Cindy Dees

  He stared at her, and she stared back. Oddly enough, she did seem to get how frustrated he was to be stuck here when his brothers were winging off toward a dangerous mission.

  “You won’t be sidelined with us women forever,” she ventured.

  “Seems like I will.”

  “Go for a ride with me?” she murmured.

  Why not? It wasn’t as if he could sit still right now, anyway. Not with how jacked up his adrenaline and irritation both were. He nodded tersely, and Sherri started the engine. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, fighting down the fury as she headed down a dirt track toward the back end of Camp Jarvis.

  Tall, kudzu-draped trees closed in around them, and a little of his fury subsided. It was damp tonight. The air felt heavy. Like it wanted to storm. Perfect. Stormy weather to match his black mood.

  A chill hung in the air, and he tugged the hood of his sweatshirt up around his ears. It would be a hell of a lot colder than this in Pakistan.

  Sherri zipped the flexible plastic windows closed on her side of the vehicle, and he did the same. She turned up the heater, and it gradually beat back the cold.

  They drove for a while in silence. Sherri seemed to understand that he was too mad to talk about it, and even if he could, he didn’t want to talk about his damned feelings.

  She surprised him, however, by veering down a side road paved with broken, crumbling concrete. Weeds grew up between the cracks, and she slowed the Jeep to a crawl, bumping along slowly. The road was only traversable because they were in a sturdy utility vehicle.

  “Where does this go?” he asked.

  “To the old base hospital and building complex around it.”

  “I thought all that stuff was torn down when Camp Jarvis was decommissioned.”

  Sherri replied, “The wooden buildings were taken down. But several dozen concrete block buildings still stand. The girls and I explored them before you guys arrived. We figured you would use them for urban assault training at some point, and we wanted to get the jump on knowing our way around.”

  He flashed her a grin. “You know what they say. Cheat, but don’t get caught. You definitely shouldn’t confess to having cheated.”

  “It’s not cheating to have a look around the place where we live and work,” she retorted. “Aren’t SEALs supposed to become familiar with any environment they find themselves in?”

  “It’s good to know you’re paying attention to my words of wisdom.” He added wryly, “I’ll make sure to compensate for your knowledge of the layout of this place when we bring you over here to play Cowboys and Indians.”

  She stopped the Jeep and turned to look at him. “It’s not politically correct to call Native Americans that anymore.”

  “Black Hats and White Hats?” he replied.

  “Better. But it seems to me that, at best, we’re gray hats.”

  “SEALs are the last resort in bad situations. Never doubt that we’re the good guys at the end of the day. We just use more…pragmatic…means than other people to achieve the good end. Leave the political nuances for the folks back home.”

  “I’d like to know why I’m being asked to kill someone,” she responded.

  “You won’t always be told,” he said solemnly. “But you’ll be expected to pull the trigger anyway. Ours not to reason why. Ours but to do and die,” he paraphrased.

  “Tennyson?” she asked in surprise.

  “You know it?” he asked in equal surprise.

  “‘Charge of the Light Brigade,’” she said softly. “They all died in the end.”

  “Another piece of sage advice, grasshopper: don’t think about death. It has a way of coming for those who do.”

  She peered at him in the dark. “Is that Tennyson, too?”

  “No. That’s Griffin Caldwell.”

  “I hear he’s a smart man.”

  Silence fell between them. He stared over at her. If possible, the shadows and darkness made her appear even more otherworldly and beautiful than usual. He reached out and pushed a strand of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. The shell of her ear was soft and smooth, and she shivered lightly under his touch.

  “How is it possible that you keep getting more beautiful?” he murmured.

  “You’re fatigued and deprived of the sight of any other women,” she replied practically.

  He chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like a SEAL.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re losing all that diplomatic doublespeak you used to do all the time.”

  “Is that good?” she murmured.

  “Yes.” He leaned in a little closer to her. “That’s good.”

  A patter on the plastic shell of the Jeep made him look up. “Here comes the rain.”

  “You wanna ride it out in here or find shelter?” Sherri asked.

  He wanted her in his arms, and not jackknifed into the back seat of a car like a couple of guilty teenagers. “Do any of those buildings have intact roofs?”

  “Yes. There’s one. A side wall is gone, but it ought to be dry. It’s over there. I don’t think we can drive to it, though.”

  “Let’s make a run for it.”

  Except, instead of running directly after Sherri, he paused long enough to scoop up a big armload of fallen branches and a couple of small logs. By the time he joined her in the partial shell of a one-story cinder-block building, it was starting to rain in earnest.

  She helped him break up the branches and build a fire. In a few minutes, a blaze crackled merrily. They sat side by side on an overturned filing cabinet and took turns feeding wood into the fire. When a decent bed of coals had formed and they’d laid some of the thicker pieces of wood on the blaze, he leaned back against the block wall behind him and closed his eyes.

  “Tell me about Abu Haddad,” Sherri said.

  “He’s one of the youngest tribal leaders in the whole Taliban. In his midthirties as far as we can tell. Lacks the wisdom of age and thinks he’s immortal.”

  “Sounds like a SEAL.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m fully aware of just how mortal I am, thank you very much.”

  “You’ve also spent a decade in the field and had some close calls.”

  “Hence my concern about the youngsters being sent over to deal with Haddad.”

  “Have a little faith in them. They’ve been exhaustively trained by you and guys like you.”

  But was it enough? Were the boys really ready to face a foe like Haddad? Had he just sent his brothers off to die? Griffin fell silent, brooding at the fire.

  Sherri prompted, “You were telling me about Haddad.”

  “Right.” It was an effort, but he picked up the thread of conversation. “He’s smart, mean, and ambitious. Has taken out most of his rivals and is fond of genocide. When he takes over a village, he wipes out everyone. Including women, kids, even the damned goats. The locals are terrified of him.”

  “That must make getting intel on him hard.”

  “Makes it damned near impossible. That’s why this sighting of him is such a big deal.”

  “What are the odds it’s a trap?” Sherri asked. “He doesn’t sound like the kind of man who allows himself to be seen by surveillance drones unless he wants to be seen.”

  “It’s always possible that any mission we’re sent on is an ambush. We train for that eventuality.”

  “You don’t sound entirely convinced,” Sherri replied.

  “I wish I was there to look out for my guys.” He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

  A crack of thunder made him jump, and they both laughed. He counted in his head between the next flash of lightning and its accompanying rumble of thunder. The night was dark, the rain a steady drumming of sound on the leaves. The trees beyond the building were black and slick. The clean smell of wet grass calmed him de
ep down in his soul.

  Tomorrow would bring another battle, but for tonight, his soul could rest.

  “Storm’s a mile or more away,” he observed.

  “It’s nice, sitting here, listening to the rain like this. It’s cold, though.”

  She was not wrong. An odd need for human contact swept over him. He opened his arms in an invitation to share body heat—and comfort. She came willingly, snuggling against him and laying her head on his shoulder. Her arms crept around his waist, and she hugged him back.

  It was nice. Too nice. Hell, it would’ve been damned near perfect if the boys weren’t on their way downrange without him. He had no business sitting here enjoying a fire on a rainy night with a beautiful woman while his teammates were winging their way toward danger.

  He argued with himself that the decision was out of his hands and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. But being left behind still rankled.

  They sat twined together staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts for a long time while his frustration rolled through him. Sherri’s slender arms were strong around him. Comforting. She understood his pain. She got it. She got him. How many women could he say that of in his life? That would be…zero.

  But this woman—she shared a part of his life no woman had ever seen before. She had an inkling of just how tightly bonded he and his SEAL brothers were.

  He turned his head and buried his face against her satin hair. Cripes, she smelled good. Like soft, pretty things with just a hint of spice. The fragrance fit her perfectly.

  He couldn’t help himself. He kissed the warm spot just below her earlobe.

  And damned if she didn’t tilt her head to give him better access. He kissed the spot again. And this time, he laved it gently with his tongue. She groaned a little and moved restlessly in his arms.

  Lust exploded behind his eyes and behind his zipper simultaneously. Man, he needed this distraction.

  Sherri threw her leg across his hips, straddling his lap, and kissed him. Passionately. As if she’d held all this pent-up need inside her for way too long. He completely knew the feeling.

  She might as well have been a waterfall, unleashing a torrent of desire in him, and nothing he did could stem the flow. Helpless in its grip, he could only kiss her back. He let his hands wander over her, untucking, unbuckling, and unzipping any obstacle in his path.

  She was every bit as eager as he to get rid of their clothes, and he stood up, setting her on her feet long enough to finish stripping off the last of her clothes and his. And then she stood before him naked and so beautiful it hurt to look at her. She stepped forward, looping her arms around his neck.

  “I’ve wanted you ever since I first met you in that stupid blue tuxedo,” she muttered against his mouth.

  “And I’ve wanted you ever since you laughed at me, stumbling off that jet.”

  “You guys looked like bums,” she responded between kisses.

  “I felt like a bum that morning. Man, the hangover I had. And you set a killer pace on that run and wouldn’t shut up. You just kept chatting away while my head tried to pound its way off my neck.”

  “I knew you were hurting bad,” she admitted.

  He drew back to stare down at her. “You did that on purpose?”

  She grinned up at him. “It wasn’t like I was going to get many opportunities to get the best of a bunch of SEALs. I took the opening when it presented itself.”

  He pulled her close and laughed into her hair. “I can’t even be mad at you. I’d have done the same thing.”

  She laughed against his chest, her body vibrating with humor and life. He couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed his way across her temple, along the line of her jaw, under her chin, and back up to her mouth. He cupped her face in his hands and savored her, so relieved finally to have arrived at this moment he could hardly breathe, let alone form coherent thoughts.

  Never in his life had he wanted a woman without having her as long as he’d wanted this one. She arched into him eagerly as well, kissing him back with enough enthusiasm to drive him nearly to his knees.

  He picked her up and then knelt beside the fire, spreading out the clothes in a makeshift bed. He was more used to sleeping on the hard, cold ground, so he stretched out on his back, drawing her down on top of him.

  Her legs tangled with his, and he reveled in their smooth, sleek strength against his. She pressed up on his chest to stare down at him, her hair falling in a curtain of gold around them. The firelight flickered through it, kissing her face with otherworldly beauty.

  “I don’t care if it bugs you or not, I can’t get enough of looking at you, Sherri. You’re…perfect.”

  “For once, I’m not bothered to hear that from a man,” she confessed.

  “How long can you hold that plank?” he asked playfully.

  “Long enough to drive you crazy,” she shot back.

  “Who knew that all this time I was conditioning you to torture me?” he responded. He wrapped his arms around her and urged her to sprawl on top of him. He murmured, “I’m a big guy. You won’t crush me. Use my body heat to stay warm.”

  “How about I just use your body?”

  Not in a million years had he ever dreamed he would hear those words from this woman. “Be my guest, darlin’. I’m yours to plunder.”

  She purred. Honest to goodness purred in response. And then, sweet Mother of God, she crawled all over him. She kissed and tickled and massaged her way across his entire body, until he was wound so tightly he could hardly breathe for fear of exploding. When he couldn’t stand one more second of the sweet torture, he grasped her waist and lifted her off him. She stared down at him, her eyes huge and black with need.

  “My turn,” he growled.

  Rolling over swiftly, he returned the favor, kissing and nipping and tasting every last spot he’d fantasized over for the past two months. Day and night. Wet. Dry. In the pool. In the mud. Hell, in the shower.

  “Let me know if you get cold,” he muttered.

  “Griffin, my problem at the moment is that I’m burning up. I need you inside me in the very near future.”

  He nearly lost it then and there. But he managed to pull back from the brink by dint of sheer, stubborn will. Jaw clenched against the agony of holding back the lust pounding through him like a jackhammer, he managed to dig a condom out of his wallet and get it rolled on without coming like an overeager schoolboy. But it was a close thing.

  Finally, at long last, after an eternity of wanting this, he positioned himself between her silken thighs and planted an elbow on either side of her head. He stared down at her, memorizing the moment for all time. He never, ever wanted to forget this feeling. Whatever the future might bring, they had this moment together. And he damned well wanted to make it perfect.

  “We’re good?” he asked.

  “If that’s SEAL speak for confirming consent, birth control, and freedom from STDs, yes. We’re very, very good.” She looped her legs around his hips and gave a muscular squeeze.

  He laughed under his breath. “I don’t think there’s any official protocol for asking a fellow SEAL for consent to have sex.”

  She smiled up at him, and he pressed into the tight, slick heat of her body ever so slowly. As he stared down at her, her smile faded, replaced by dawning wonder. Awe. Blinding joy.

  If he thought she was beautiful before, it was nothing compared to her now, lost in the throes of pleasure, her internal muscles clenching and unclenching around him, sending ripples of such sweet agony through him that he could hardly stand it.

  Finally he paused, seated to the hilt within her.

  She smiled, and her eyes drifted closed as if the pleasure was too much for her to bear, too.

  He moved his hips a little, pulling back slightly. She made a sound of protest in the back of her throat, and then he drove forw
ard gently.

  “Oh my. Do that again,” she sighed.

  “Like that?”

  “Yes. Definitely yes. Again.”

  Chuckling, he complied.

  That drew a full-throated groan from her this time.

  “SEALs know how to do everything in silence, you know,” he teased.

  Her eyes flashed open. “I dare you to make love to me and not make a single sound,” she retorted.

  Grinning from ear to ear, he nodded. “Challenge accepted. First person to make noise loses.”

  And with that, he set out to win. She surged up against him in time with his thrusts, and they established a rhythm that all but made his eyes fall out of their sockets. She was strong and met his power with equal enthusiasm. The sweet friction of body on body, sweaty skin on sweaty skin, hot flesh sliding on hot flesh was mind-blowing.

  She bit her lip and then clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure built between them. He pressed his lips together so hard he tasted blood, but he didn’t care at all. Pain blended with pleasure until it was all one big pool of exquisite ecstasy. Electric shocks zinged through his body, over and over, higher and higher.

  Sherri’s face and then her entire body flushed pink, and she began to shudder around his shaft, convulsing as orgasms began to roll through her. He couldn’t stand it any longer. His control shattered all at once and he pounded into her mindlessly, letting the sexual storm between them rage wildly.

  He buried his face in her hair, and she buried her face in his neck as they reached a fever pitch, driving each other completely out of their minds.

  All at once, his entire being coiled. For an endless, perfect instant he teetered on the edge of bursting. And then, with a mighty explosion, pleasure totally consumed him.

  A hoarse cry ripped from his throat. And he didn’t care at all. What a magnificent way to lose a bet.

  It registered on him belatedly that Sherri was crying out too against his chest, in every bit as much abandon as he was.

  She fell back to the wadded clothes, and he gathered her closer, rolling over onto his back. She sprawled bonelessly across him, breathing as hard as he was.

  He stroked her hair lazily as his heartbeat gradually slowed and awareness slowly returned to his body.