“Self-taught. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
He leans back against the crate and looks at me. “Why do you ask?”
I pause, torn between smacking that smug look off his face and… well, not. The light of the laptop reflects off his glasses, casting a blue glow onto his face and tricking me into seeing the more handsome features of him. Prominent cheekbones. Thick — but not bushy — eyebrows. Sharp, playful lips...
I lean away. “What are you really doing out here, Carson?”
“Getting some fresh air.”
“You know what I mean.”
He inhales a quick breath. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my job to keep people safe and I can’t do that unless I trust the ones around me.”
“Ahh.” He closes the laptop and shifts on the crate to face me. “Is that all?”
“Is that not enough?”
“No, it is.”
I wait, expecting him to continue, growing more and more frustrated with each silent moment. “You know what? Nevermind—”
I move to stand. He grabs my arm.
“Wait…” His grip softens and he sighs. “You can’t tell anybody.”
I raise my brow. “Why not?”
He hesitates. “Because… it’s not exactly legal.”
I fucking knew it.
“So, you are a criminal mastermind sent to kill us all in our sleep?”
“Pfft! I wish.”
He gives my arm a quick tug to pull me back down. I sit beside him again, but I stay on the edge in case he makes any sudden moves.
“I went to Europe for a vacation, figured I’d get a rail pass and wander around for a bit. See the world and whatnot,” he explains. “Some bastard pick-pocketed me in London and I had to improvise. I didn’t have money to go home or stay in hotels, so…” he pauses, searching my face, “I started breaking into houses and sleeping on couches while the owners were gone.”
I smirk. “You’re a vagrant?”
He laughs. “I’m a drifter.”
“Same thing.”
“I didn’t do anything super shady,” he says. “Just went in, got some food, and caught a few Zs. I didn’t steal any valuables. I left no trace besides a few missing slices of bread and a beer. Or two.”
I shake my head, but I can’t hide my amusement. “How did you not get caught?”
“It’s actually really easy to tell who’s out of town. Newspapers pile up. Mail doesn’t get taken inside. Closed curtains. No lights. Once I was inside, I just tried to find out when they’d come back. Usually, there’d be a clue or two but if not… just hope for the best.”
“And how did you go from drifting around Europe to trapped in a warehouse in Afghanistan?”
“Oh, right. That.” He winces. “I got caught.”
“Of course, you did.”
“I was in Paris and I stumbled on this gorgeous house outside of the city. Best of all, the owner obviously traveled a lot. So, I made myself at home for a little while… until…”
“Busted.”
“I woke up to find two very large men standing over me with two very large guns,” he continues, holding his hands up at least two feet apart to show their length. “I’m talking assault weaponry. The kind you don’t typically see on civilians in France.”
“What did you do?”
“I said a damn prayer and hoped it’d be quick.” He laughs. “Then, this woman walked in. Tall, blonde, older — probably in her fifties, but I got kind of a cougar vibe from her—”
“Carson.”
“Right.” He clears his throat. “Obviously, she asked what the hell I was doing there. I explained everything. Just a poor boy with nothing on him but lint and a computer, looking for a way back home.”
“And?”
“And… she offered me a job.”
I blink. “What?”
He pats his computer. “She was really interested in knowing what I could do, seeing as how I managed to override her home security system and disable the alarms so I could get in. Which was not easy, by the way. By far the most advanced system I’ve ever stumbled upon. The conversation quickly turned kind of scary, but I wasn’t about to piss off the woman with the two hired guns standing behind me, watching my every move.”
“What kind of scary?”
He takes a breath and his eyes shift around us for prying ears. “She started talking about United States military servers and whether or not I’d be able to crack into them to gather personnel files.”
I furrow my brow. “What kind of personnel files?”
“Mission debriefings. Confirmed kills. Pretty much anything I could find on active duty soldiers currently deployed,” he says, his voice low. “Soldiers like you guys.”
I pause. “What did she want with that?”
“Honestly, I was too scared to ask,” he says, “but it seemed like they were recruiting for something.”
“Any idea what for?” I ask. He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you say no?”
“I got the feeling I didn’t have a choice.”
Comply or die. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.
“Did you catch her name?” I ask.
“She never said it and I didn’t ask,” he answers. “The others just kept calling her boss. The next morning, she put me on a helicopter and flew me down here with her two goons and two other hackers she hired to do the same thing. About a week went by and then…”
His voice falls and I see fear in his eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“I guess they got what they wanted out of us,” he says slowly. “They lined the three of us up and I watched as they shot the others dead.” He points to his eyes. “One bullet through each eye, like a damn execution.”
A chill runs down my spine.
“At that moment…” He exhales as if he can’t believe it himself. “A bomb struck our building and I ran like hell. I didn’t get very far, just hid out in another warehouse in the compound but then that one got hit, too. When I couldn’t get out, I sent that fake intel.”
I nod. “And three days later…”
“You and Fox showed up to dig me out.”
I sit back, wheels spinning in my head. “That’s quite the story.”
“It’s all true, Caleb,” he says. “Every word.”
“It sounds crazy.”
“You don’t believe me?”
I pause, studying his deep, green eyes, looking for any tell I can find that will show me if he’s lying but I come up short.
“It’s not completely unbelievable.”
“Then, you’re gonna love this,” he says, opening his laptop again. He brings up the security footage and pushes play. “Meet the two goons who brought me down here.”
I stare at the footage, watching as the bald man and the bearded man pass by the cameras. “They’re the ones who killed the other hackers?” He nods. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t forget those faces. They’re here… somewhere.”
“You’re safe here, Carson,” I tell him. “No one’s going to find you out here.”
“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about the next poor boy who gets caught in their crosshairs.”
“You should go to Rhys with this.”
“I’m not about to admit to stealing government documents and handing them over to a very obvious terrorist organization.”
“Then, why tell me?” I ask.
His eyes grow softer. “Because you asked. And…” he pauses to lick his dry lips, “your trust is important to me.”
Not one damn tell to prove he’s lying.
“Why?” I ask.
He hesitates. “Just… is. Also, you’re my bodyguard, right? You have a right to know what to look out for.”
A short smile crosses his lips, caving in the dimples on his chin. The desert wind strikes my face, but it just makes the blood in my
cheeks tingle a little more.
I look away, clearing my throat. “We should get back inside.”
I shift upward and he quickly stands with me.
“Caleb,” he says. “I don’t want anyone else to know about this. Can you keep this between us? Please?”
I nod, sensing the shame in his tone. “Okay.”
He lets out a light sigh. “Thank you.”
I turn to leave but Boxcar takes a quick step forward to stop me.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier,” he says.
“With what?”
His lips twitch. “With that whole kiss thing.”
Red tickles my cheeks even more. “You didn’t.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you with the whole beating you thing,” I add.
“You didn’t,” he says. “Also, you cheated, so…”
I grit my teeth. “I did not—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He chuckles. “It was worth it.”
I hold back my laugh. “Shut up and get back inside. Rhys wants to see you.”
He takes a quick stride toward me. There’s fear in his eyes but it’s quickly overruled by the obvious lust controlling him. His fingers latch around my arm and he gently pulls me in to plant a soft kiss on my lips.
My entire body breaks, torn in half by duty and desire. I pull away to stop our kiss and take a slow breath, but it only gets caught in my throat as my lips tremble for more of him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers.
He bends over to grab his bag off the crate and his soft touch slides off my arm.
The wind kicks up, slapping the loose tarps strapped to the crates nearby. I can barely hear it over the blood pounding in my ears. I bite my lip, trying to quell the seductive urge to feel his mouth again. This is wrong. It’s all wrong, and yet…
Boxcar slides his laptop into his bag and throws it over his shoulder, preparing to step around me to head back into camp. My feet move on their own and I block his path.
I kiss him back. His hands immediately cup my face, holding me close as our lips lock over and over again.
My god, his mouth. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but this is quite possibly the most intense kiss I’ve ever experienced. It’s the perfect blend of soft and firm, wet and dry, with just the right amount of tongue — and his hands. He moves one down my body, wandering over my breast to curl around my lower back and hold me against him. I feel his chest heaving with mine and his fingers trembling along my skin and his growing, hard—
Oh, god.
Fuck, what am I doing?
I step back, nearly falling over from the lack of blood entering my brain. “I have to go—” I spin away from him, instantly regretting it as his hands slip from my skin, but I keep moving.
I rush to the barracks without looking back, knowing I’ll never be able to pull my eyes off him if I do.
My feet carry me back to my cot and plop down onto it, burying my burning face into my rock-hard pillow.
“Well, what did he say?”
I raise my head to find Fox staring back at me from his cot next to mine. “It didn’t come up,” I answer quickly.
He raises a curious brow. “What did come up?”
“Nothing important.”
I kick off my boots and fall back down onto my pillow.
Thankfully, Fox doesn’t push it, but I can feel his sly eyes studying me with amusement. I ignore it. I’ve completely lost the ability to focus on anything other than the phantom kiss tugging on my mouth and the deep throbbing taking hold everywhere else.
Oh, this is bad. So very bad.
I can’t let this happen. I have to take back control. It was a one-time thing. A fluke. Just one kiss. That’s all it was. Just one perfect, mind-blowing kiss.
Nope. Don’t even think about it.
I, Caleb Fawn, do solemnly swear not to sleep with Boxcar.
Not today. Not tomorrow.
Not ever.
Chapter 10
Caleb
Now
Boxcar.
He kisses me and it all comes crashing down like a damn tidal wave. His tongue touches mine and lightning strikes down to my toes. I lean closer to him, feeling the soft touch of his fingers gliding across my lower back beneath my shirt.
I moan, the sound caressing my throat. Boxcar hears it and tunes into our own special frequency. His hands inch along the sensitive skin of my spine, tickling me the way only he knows how.
I reach for his belt.
Boxcar groans as his zipper falls. I touch the thin skin of his calm shaft. It twitches against my fingers, surging with fresh blood, growing hard in my palm. I’ve forgotten how thick he was. My core throbs with warmth, begging to recall what he feels like inside.
I push his briefs down and his manhood stands firm between us, throbbing for me in my hand with each gentle stroke I give him. His lips never leave mine as his fingers slip beneath the elastic of my slacks to cup my rear. I quiver against his warm, squeezing hands. He pushes my slacks down to my ankles, along with my moist panties, and stands back up to push me hard against the counter. I hop up onto it and spread my knees, wrapping my legs around his waist as he steps into position between them.
“Box…” I whisper against his lips.
He pauses, staring into my eyes through the thick rims of his glasses. I take the glasses off his head and drop them on the counter behind me to get a better look at him. He’s barely aged a day since the last time I saw him. I wonder if he can say the same about me. Stress has beaten me up plenty but if it’s done the same for him, he’s not showing it. He’s still youthful and playful as he ever was with his adorable green eyes and thick, brown hair.
He caresses my face, sliding his thumb across my cheek as he holds my stare. His eyes sparkle with desire for me, the same desire I saw in his eyes in Afghanistan.
I reach for his hips and pull him closer, drawing a heavy breath from the bottom of his lungs as his cock presses even harder against my slit. He trembles as I take hold of it and guide the tip to rest on my entrance.
Boxcar’s lips curl and he steals another firm kiss. He sheaths himself inside of me, pulled in by my guiding fingers. We both pause and lean against each other with closed eyes as that old, familiar ache reignites the air between us. He looks at me with laughter in his throat, torn between the instinct to come and the desire to make this last.
If only I had that choice. I feel my climax already, lingering on the edges of me, just begging to break down my walls. His thickness dominates me with a subtle pain. My feet hang by his sides, twitching with warmth as pleasure radiates my toes. Boxcar rocks us both and I can do nothing to fight the forgotten passion overwhelming us both. He drops his lips to my neck. I feel the edge of his teeth digging into my skin and the soft caress of his tongue tasting me.
“Don’t stop…” I moan.
Boxcar grips my waist to guide his hard, purposeful thrusts. After all this time, he still knows how to hold me and exactly where to touch me to control the fire inside of me. What Boxcar lacks in life, he more than makes up for in his bed. He’s the type of lover who studies his woman and takes his time on her, never once batting an impatient eye as she enjoys herself beneath him.
Some things never change.
He takes me into his arms to slide me off the counter. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, refusing to let him slide out of me for even a second as he carries me across the room and lowers us both down onto my bed.
He pins me against the mattress, reminding me that I’m his woman and no one else’s. He fucks me like a man should fuck his wife.
I push his jacket off his shoulders, craving to feel even more of his smooth skin. He leans up and slides it off his arms, tossing it to the floor as I reach for his shirt. It ruffles his hair as he jerks it off his head and I chuckle softly to myself as he tries to fix it. I put my hands on his body, luring him down to my lips again. He pushes deeper inside and I
moan against his mouth, urging him to keep fucking me, but he holds himself steady instead.
Boxcar lays his hands on me, fishing them beneath my shirt. His fingers crawl upward to caress my breasts and feel my nipples as they poke his palms. He takes his time sliding my shirt up, re-learning every gentle curve of me, every freckle and spot on my skin. I twitch with impatience, knowing that the pleasure gently tapping on my walls is just the beginning of what he’s capable of doing to me.
He pulls out of me. I grit my teeth in disappointment but that feeling fades as Boxcar’s mouth descends my neck and over my breasts. His tongue travels my navel, leaving wet kisses along my taut skin all the way down. He pushes my knees farther apart, straining my muscles until they hurt. My back arches. My toes curl. My entire body submits as his lips clamp around my surging clit.
I moan at the ceiling. Quick, constant breaths keep me light-headed and weak, completely unable to process the supreme pleasure dominating me from the inside out. His tongue laps at me, zeroing in on my most sensitive spot. He gazes up at me with purposeful eyes, locking on mine as I writhe beneath him.
Boxcar lays a firm finger against my opening. I’m not even sure how much more of this I can take before I’m screaming his name. I know exactly what he can do with those strong, trained fingers of his. I look into his eyes again, seeing impish delight in his pupils. He slides a single finger inside and waits for my moans to subside before playing me with expert precision. Flawless and true, he massages a thunderous climax out of me, refusing to stop his gentle rub even as I clamp down on his hand.
“Box!” I scream, barely able to catch my breath as he slides a second finger inside and fucks me hard and fast.
He keeps his hand working as he travels upward, leaving hot, eager kisses along my flesh before finally finding my lips again. I ache for more of him, especially the wide thickness of his cock.
Boxcar laughs and pulls his fingers out of me, reading my expression like a book he’s read a thousand times. He knows what I want. He knows how I want it and where. He always did.
Maybe he always will.
He grabs me and guides me around onto my hands and knees. I feel him press against me, hard and firm as ever, before he burrows his cock back inside of me where he belongs. With one hand on my waist and another resting on my shoulder, he pounds me with hard, deliberate thrusts.
Broken Love Page 6