Hard Play (Delta Force Brotherhood)

by Sheryl Nantus

  Dylan rocked back and forth, one hand curling under to the small of her back to control her as he increased his pace, drawing small cries of pleasure out of her while he groaned his own delight, overwhelmed by her gift.

  Her hands scrabbled over his back, one finally coming to rest at his waist, pulling him down as the other cupped the back of his neck, nails digging into his scalp.

  Dylan sped up, feeling the lightning start at the base of his spine and curl up into his balls, dying to be set free.

  Jessie kept stride with him, her legs locked hard around his waist. The cries had turned into long, lengthy moans, her lips now pressed to his ear.

  “Now,” Jessie roared, her fingers tight on his slick skin.

  Dylan thrust home once, twice more and shuddered, the jagged lightning breaking free. It burned a path down his spine and up inside of her as she shook around him, her own orgasm sweeping her away as well.

  It stole the last of his breath, and he slumped against her, angling himself to the side so he wouldn’t totally crush her.

  …

  If she was going to die, then she’d go out having already seen heaven.

  Jessie drew a shallow breath, drawing her fingers lightly over Dylan’s back. Small tremors vibrated out from her touch, the slick skin reacting to her.

  To them.

  To what they’d just done.

  Dylan moved off her for a minute, reaching up to grab the light blanket from the couch. He flipped it open and covered the two of them, rolling onto his back and pulling her onto his chest.

  As her breathing slowed, Jessie ran her fingers over Dylan’s chest, tangling in the light brown hairs. He stayed silent as she recovered, a delicious hum still singing through her body.

  Jessie cleared her throat and moved up to look at him.

  He smiled at her, his eyes half closed.

  “The fire’s going out,” she murmured.

  Dylan frowned. “Is that supposed to be code for something?”

  “No.” She propped herself up on an elbow. “The fire’s actually going out.” She gestured at the dying embers. “I’m fine with that, given I’m a bit overheated right now, but if you’re worried about it…”

  He looked over at the sputtering flames. “I’m hoping you’re not seeing that as a metaphor for what happened here.”

  Jessie laughed and leaned in to give him a kiss, her desire building again as he returned it in force. “Definitely not.”

  “Good.” Dylan grunted as he rolled over to kneel in front of the fireplace. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll have a roaring fire going.”

  She shot him a saucy wink and gathered the blanket around her. “Ooh. Promises.”

  Dylan added another log to the fire then shifted back as the embers popped and crackled.

  “Watch it,” she warned. “Don’t want to get anything important burned.”

  He smirked as he pivoted and faced her, still on his knees. “I think I’m okay.”

  “So I guess I passed the audition.” Jessie rolled onto her back.

  “Should still take it easy.” Dylan shook his head. “Soup and sandwiches aren’t going to bring you all the way back in less than a day.”

  “I kept up with you,” she shot back.

  “That you did,” he admitted with a wry smile. “Right to the end.”

  His sultry smirk had her blushing, her cheeks warm with the current memories.

  She looked at the digital clock sitting on a side table and blinked. “Damn. It’s almost exactly one day since you sprung me.”

  “Exactly.” He returned to lounge near her, drawing his fingers along her belly. “You’re still recovering, getting your legs back under you.”

  Jessie couldn’t help laughing. “I think I like them under yours. But point well taken.”

  Dylan grinned. “We’ll sit tight for a few days, see which way Molodavi’s going to jump. Rest, relax, and we’ll see what happens.”

  She reached out and touched his chin. “But what will we do with ourselves?”

  He smirked. “Build lots of fires.”

  Jessie tried to think of something snarky to say back, but then he was kissing her, and her mind went blank.

  …

  Less than a week later he was going stir crazy. Even with a hot, sexy woman in his bed, he was beginning to get cranky, the lack of action grating on his nerves. He’d already dug out a stump on the edge of the clearing because it annoyed him and cleared another few feet of brush around the cabin, working out his frustration with hard labor and the satisfaction of good, honest sweat.

  The worst times he’d ever had in the military were between missions, between deployments. Sitting around in a room reading old magazines and watching action movies didn’t work for him. Training was better because it kept him moving, kept him thinking, but it never replaced the real thing.

  Someone had called him an adrenaline junkie once, claiming he was a danger to himself and his unit. That’d started a fight, one he’d won handily.

  Privately he had to admit the man did have a point. But he never started the fights, never ignited the conflicts he’d get into.

  But he sure as hell finished them.

  It’d been five days since he’d brought Jessie up the mountain, and five days of constant boredom, interspersed with intense bouts of lovemaking that left them both breathless and exhausted.

  She hadn’t let up on asking him to take her along, holding the location of the flash drive hostage.

  He hadn’t let up on demanding she tell him where it was so he could keep her safe and sound.

  Jessica Lyon was an annoying, stubborn woman.

  One of the many things he liked about her.

  He didn’t want to think past the next few days, past the end of the assignment. He’d never gotten involved with someone like this before, and it was all fresh territory.

  But whatever they had, he’d enjoy it for now and hope for the best. He hadn’t made her any promises, and she hadn’t asked for any, both of them silently accepting the situation as it was.

  It wouldn’t last—the sanctuary they’d built wasn’t going to stand for long, not with Molodavi on the hunt. But all they could do was wait, and no matter how much wood he chopped up or how often he sparred with Jessie, keeping their skills honed, it was out of their control.

  That was what he hated the most.

  …

  He lay on the couch and reread the same page for the third time before tossing the paperback to one side.

  Jessie glanced over from the kitchen where she’d started dinner, the grilled cheese sandwiches already in the frying pan.

  “Getting antsy?”

  “Yep.” He stood up and rubbed his palms on his jeans. It took a concentrated effort to not pick up his phone and call Trey, get another update.

  Every morning a text message arrived, detailing what was going on with the Devil’s Playground and what was up with Molodavi and the manhunt for Jessie. The fast electronic communications made it hard for anyone to track them.

  Every morning it seemed to be getting shorter and shorter.

  Jessie flipped a sandwich. “We can always go for another walk.”

  He grinned, remembering the last one. “How are the scratches on your back?”

  She twirled in her light blue T-shirt. “You should know. Damned tree.”

  The cell phone dinged and he picked it up. The text message of four words was the shortest to date.

  Finn’s on his way.

  He frowned. It wasn’t like Trey to not include any details.

  “Finn’s on his way up.”

  She paused and looked at him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t know that yet,” he warned. “Could be good. Maybe Molodavi’s called off the bounty on your head.”

  Jessie made a dismissive noise. “Man like that doesn’t let go easy. And no matter where you send me, he’s going to find me. He’s got connections, he’s got friends.” She hesitated; Dyl
an looked up and was caught in her intense stare. “We need to get back into Fluxxx and get those files. The only way to make sure I’ll be safe is to take him off the board.”

  “Damn.” He shook his head. “You’re like a pit bull. Get something in your jaws and you won’t let go.”

  Jessie laughed and walked over to hug him. “I could say the same about you.”

  He took hold of the short blond hair at the back of her neck and tugged before giving her a fast, rough kiss. “Yeah. But we’re going to have to be careful we don’t lose our grip.”

  …

  Finn arrived exactly an hour and a half later.

  Dylan opened the door on the first knock. “Come in.” He looked out into the darkness.

  Finn brushed by him. He carried a plastic shopping bag. “I’m no rookie. I made sure I wasn’t followed.” He nodded to Jessie, dressed again in the T-shirt and track pants. “Ma’am. Good to see you again.”

  She scowled at him before offering her hand. “Your mother would be a ma’am. I’m Jessie.”

  “Jessie.” Finn laughed and shook her hand.

  She pulled him in for a hug, grateful to finally meet her other rescuer. “I didn’t get a chance before, but thank you for saving me.” A moment later she released Finn and touched her left jawline, mirroring Finn’s own face. “Can I ask how you got the scar?”

  “You can ask, but he’ll never tell you the truth,” Dylan said as he locked the door. “He’s got a different story for everyone.”

  Finn grinned.

  “What’s the word?” Dylan asked. “Trey didn’t send you up here to just bring us supplies.” He took Jessie’s hand and led her to the couch, sitting down beside her.

  Finn raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “We have a situation.” He stood in front of them as if delivering an official report, his hands tucked behind his back. “Manhunt is still going on, but it’s slipped down in the rankings. Brenner didn’t have any family who want to claim him, so there’s not as much media coverage. But Molodavi is chomping at the bit, and everyone’s looking to collect either the official reward he’s put up as Brenner’s employer or the unofficial bounty on your head.”

  “How much?” Jessie asked. “I know it’s twenty thousand out front to the public. How much is he offering off the books?”

  Finn paused and looked at Dylan, a wary look on his face.

  “Come on,” she urged him.

  Dylan nodded.

  “Two hundred fifty thousand dollars on the street.”

  Jessie let out a low whistle. “Hell. I’d turn myself in for that much.” She looked at Dylan. “That’s a hell of a lot of money. He must have some big secrets hiding in those files.”

  “There’s something else.” Finn paused. “Frank Wheeler left a message on your phone. Said he needed to see you.”

  Jessie stared at him, not sure she understood what he was saying. “What? My phone was taken by Molodavi’s men and destroyed.”

  “Not your cell phone. Your office phone, on the answering machine. That line stayed live.” Finn looked at Dylan. “The cops are monitoring it, but Trey thought it’d be a good idea for us to do the same.”

  “And it was,” Dylan replied. He looked at Jessie. “Odds are it’s a trap.”

  She shook her head, trying to make sense out of the information. “But why now? Why call my office days after the fact?”

  Finn spoke this time. “No one’s cashing in on the money, and the trail’s gone cold thanks to your being here.” He looked around the cabin. “Wyatt took a run out and checked on Wheeler from a distance, watched him for a few hours. He’s got some shadows—not the police.”

  “Lisa.” Her mouth went dry.

  “Ace is still watching her,” Finn replied, quick to soothe her fears. “Been on her since she contacted us. She’s safe.”

  Finn nodded, confirming his words. “Ace is lying low, living out of his car. She doesn’t know he’s there. He’d notice if someone was eyeing her and act if they made a move. She’s secure for the time being.”

  “So, instead, the bastards went for the soft target. Frank’s old, retired. I’ve got to go see him.” She turned to Dylan. “I’ve got to talk to him.”

  “Not if it means walking right back into Molodavi’s arms,” Dylan said. “Not going to happen.”

  She stared at him, eyes narrowing.

  Finn cleared his throat, picking up on the obvious. “When I came in, I saw the woodpile’s running low. I’m going to go chop some wood outside, top it off. Let me know what you want to do.”

  As the door shut behind the veteran, Jessie turned and glared at him. “You can’t keep me up here.”

  He raised both eyebrows. “I believe we’ve already had this discussion. I can and I will, if it keeps you safe.” He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. “How important is Frank Wheeler to you? Enough to risk your life?”

  He leaned on the stone mantel. “I’ve dealt with informants before. Some of them will burn you to save their own lives. Some of them will burn you because they like to see the world on fire.” He looked over at her. “Which category do you think Wheeler falls into?”

  “He’s a family friend.”

  “Everyone is someone’s family friend. Depends on which family he’s friendlier with.”

  “You think he’s working for Molodavi.”

  “I think it’s a definite possibility.” He ran his hand along the cool gray stone. “I get that he knew your father and he knew you, that you care for him. But I won’t hand you back over to Molodavi.” He looked at her, and she saw the concern smoldering in his gaze. “I won’t let you walk back into the fire.”

  “He could have information about the frame-up.” She rose and went to the window, crossing her arms to try and stave off her fear. “I think it’s worth the chance.”

  Finn had his shirt off and was working on the woodpile, swinging the axe high over his head.

  “It’s likely a trap,” Dylan repeated.

  “Could be.” She spun to face him. “But we won’t know until I see him. And I don’t think we’re in a position to pass up on a chance to get some information. Right now we’ve got nothing, so it’s worth the risk.”

  He closed his eyes, thinking it over. She could see it in the way his jaw tensed and flexed, the way his fingers drummed on the mantle.

  Finally, he looked at her directly, holding her still in his gaze. “If we do this, we do this my way. Don’t let yourself get played because of your emotional attachment to him.”

  She turned back to see Finn. She watched the axe rise and fall on the logs, chopping them into smaller blocks of wood, sweat building on his bare skin.

  The logs didn’t have a chance, splintering into pieces under the heavy swings.

  Her heart ached as she weighed the pros and cons, knowing full well where she was going to land.

  All she could do was try to make the best of a bad situation.

  And hope she came out the other side alive.

  “Okay. I promise.” She nodded. “Your way.”

  Dylan went to the cabin door and opened it. He let out a whistle.

  Finn slammed the axe into the tree stump. He came in, wrestling the shirt back over his finely toned chest.

  “You two done discussing?”

  “For now,” said Jessie. “We’re going to go back to…” She stopped and looked at Dylan. “Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  “Okay, then.” Finn waved a hand at the bags. “Brought up hair dye for you and some more clothing, like you asked.” He glanced at Jessie. “Sorry, ma’am… Jessie. I didn’t know your size, so I guessed.”

  She grinned and pulled the bag open to peer inside. “Dang. No black lace.”

  Finn’s ears went red. “I like the new haircut.”

  She ran her hands through the scruffy cut. Dylan had worked on it with a pair of scissors a day ago, helping level out the hacked locks to make them look respectable.


  “Figure I’ll go short for a bit.” She picked up the hair dye. “Between the length and going red, I doubt anyone’s going to recognize me.”

  “It’s a start.” Dylan turned back to Finn. “You head on back to the club, tell them we’ll be there in a few hours. Make sure everything’s secure and no one’s on our tail or yours.” He paused. “Tell Trey to work on some sort of remote access, some way we can contact Wheeler and set up a link between him and Jessie without her leaving the Playground.”

  “Yes, sir.” Finn nodded.

  Dylan gestured at the door. “Tell everyone to rest up. I want them frosty tomorrow.”

  She waved at Finn as Dylan walked him out to the truck, the two men chatting as they moved out of sight.

  Jessie closed her eyes.

  She had to talk to Frank, there was no way around it. They needed whatever information he could give them.

  She only hoped it wouldn’t end up in someone else getting hurt or killed.

  …

  “How’s Ace doing? Going stir-crazy yet?” Dylan asked.

  “Nah. You know him. Happy as can be as long as he’s got some beef jerky and his podcasts. He’ll stay there as long as you need him to.” Finn scratched his chin. “Any idea how long that’s going to be?”

  “Until this is finished, one way or another.” Dylan looked out into the wilderness. “Lisa did right, coming to us. There’s no way this could have worked with anyone else.”

  Finn grunted his agreement. “That’s for sure.” He nodded toward the cabin. “She’s a tough one.” The setting sun had almost gone, casting long shadows across the forest. “Most people I know would have lost it by this time.” Finn scuffed the dirt with the heel of his combat boot. “You sure about talking to Wheeler?”

  Dylan shook his head. “Jessie won’t give up on it. And she’s right—it’ll give us some information on what Molodavi’s doing. Can’t fault her logic. I might not like it, but I can’t fault it. We still have to retrieve that flash drive.”

  “She’ll be angry if you cut her out of this,” Finn warned. “Seems pretty determined to see this through to the end. Clear her name and take Molodavi down.”

  “She’s stubborn.”