Storm (Bad Boys of X-Ops #3)

by Rie Warren

  “Damn, but I love you. Love you so much, Blaize.”

  “Angel?” she asked on a broken whisper after I released her lips.

  “I said stop callin’ me that!” I grinned like a fool when she collapsed in fits of laughter.

  “How am I suppose to have a serious conversation with you?” She tried to look stern.

  Too bad her eyes were bright-lit blue and her smile perfect, her lips lush and her body anchored against mine.

  Sobering, I skimmed my fingers through her wild mane of hair. “Angel can start again. The Legion is his. Let him run it. New recruits. Legit. With Solomon. They gotta stick together. I don’t trust anyone else to look after him.”

  “Except for Mamere?”

  “Yeah. Her too. Now they have each other.”

  “Was that your plan all along, Storm?”

  “Tell you the truth, my only plan at the beginning was getting into your panties.”

  Turning, she straddled my lap. “Which you did, with remarkable ease.”

  Her fingers floated to the back of my neck, and she gripped my hair, twisting it.

  I grunted. “Wouldn’t say you were easy, cher. Have you met you?”

  Her words whisper-licked against my ear. “I’m not that bad.”

  “Didn’t say you were bad. But I do wanna do bad things to you.” Grabbing her hips, I pumped up, my hard cock almost welded inside my jeans.

  “Uh uhn.” Blaize eased off of me. “Not done talking yet.”

  “Talking’s overrated.” On all fours, I prowled toward her.

  “Storm.”

  Hoisted over her, I dropped my hips, grinding against her. “Un unh. You can’t use your Mizz Cahmichael voice with me out here.”

  She whimpered as I teased her with the erect swollen rod of my cock.

  “I was going to ask if you’re always so protective of your people?”

  “Over you, most of all.” I lashed my lips against her neck, sucking her pulse point until I probably gave her a hickey.

  Her hands grasped my ass, pulling me tighter, but I jumped to my feet.

  “You up for roughing it tonight?” Didn’t want to be heard fucking her in the small cabin with Mamere on one side of us, Angel on the other.

  “With you? Always.” She placed her hand in mine, and I drew her up against me. “That’s how I like it.”

  “You sure?” I peered down at her. “Because sometimes I get carried away with you. Don’t wanna scare you after what happened—”

  With her hands framing my face, she stood on her tiptoes. Her sweet breath rushed across my mouth.

  “I love that side of you. Rough and raw.” Her fingertips glanced off my chest, danced down to my abs, played with the low waist of my jeans. “I’m always in charge. Of my career. Of other people. Responsible for their lives.” She wrapped an arm around my neck. “I’m always the strong one. With you I don’t have to be. Don’t want to be.” She kissed me with a lush, sumptuous sucking sound. “Can you handle that?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  What in the Fuck is Glamping?

  “OH FUCK YES.”

  “Thought so.” Her fingers trailed down my arm, and she grabbed my hand. “I want you to ravish me, Storm.”

  Hot animal desire dragged a groan from my throat.

  At the end of the dock, I pointed her toward the lean-to.

  She halted in her heated hurry up and fuck me tracks. “That doesn’t look like glamping.”

  “I fuckin’ hope not.” I shuddered.

  “We’re sleeping there?”

  “Don’t worry, cher. The only thing that’s gonna be howlin’ at the moon tonight is you when I make you come on my cock.”

  She hissed in a breath then hurried on.

  That’s more like it.

  At the lean-to, she took in the dim lantern, the sleeping bags I’d arranged. No flowers, no music, no masks in place.

  Just us.

  “Rough and raw, like you said, Blaize.” My fingers glided over her face, and I brushed her lips with mine. “Undress for me.”

  Blaize shivered, and it wasn’t from the cool night air. I stood, arms folded over my chest, watching her every move. She removed her jacket. Toed off her boots. Peeled off her socks. Advancing closer, she watched my eyes—dilated, possibly almost black with greed—unbuttoning her shirt until it rippled open. Revealing tits in a white cotton bra.

  I rubbed my hand across my mouth. “More. All of it.”

  Her breath hitched. Tossing back her hair, she unzipped the jeans, shimmied them down, down, all the way off. Moonlight tracked over her skin, washing her in glowing white that shined off her creamy skin, her long legs, her curvy body. That amazing red hair.

  Biting her lip, she unhooked the bra, dropped it to the ground. Her tits bounced, nipples like pink candy, high and tight.

  I brushed the backs of my hands over the high crests, looking into her eyes. “Panties too.”

  Bending forward, Blaize rolled them off, her mouth parallel to my dick strangled inside my jeans.

  She stood, a wildly hot vision in the middle of this bayou heaven.

  She yanked at my shirt. “Your turn.”

  I dropped my leather, kicked my boots away, pushed off my socks. I tackled my shirt, throwing it to the ground.

  “Oh fuck yeeeessss.” Blaize laid roaming hands on my chest, feeling the hard tough muscles, twisting my nipples, playing with the soft arrowed mat of hair. “Turn around.”

  After I pivoted, she plastered her sexy body against my back, the peaks of her breasts, the heat of her cunt, the silken warmth of womanly flesh.

  She reached around me, whipped my belt off, lashed it to the ground.

  My muscles bunched. I grunted and jerked forward. Her whisperish touch disappeared.

  Circling to my front, Blaize traced short fingernails over the padded muscles of my ribs, the lean cuts of my hips.

  I watched her through hooded eyes.

  Naked.

  Sexy.

  All bronzed hair.

  A lioness.

  She crouched down. Opened my jeans. Sucked and licked my cock as it appeared. The cool night coalesced with her hot worship. She nestled her lips against my balls, stroking me in a pulsing grip that almost made me jet off.

  “Stop,” I ordered.

  With a tempting little lick at my swelling cockhead—swirling my dripping precome—she slinked to her feet.

  I stepped back, caressing her entire body with my gaze.

  “I want every part of you, Blaize. Cher.” I beckoned her to me with a hooked finger. “Come.”

  Moving together.

  Bare feet.

  Bare ground.

  Bare bodies.

  Night air . . .

  “I want your body.” On my knees, I pulled her slippery slit against my mouth.

  Eating her, devouring her, running my tongue into her tight hollow and tasting her excited pink clit, I held her thighs, held her to my mouth.

  Kissing the insides of her legs, pushing her down to the sleeping bags, rising on top of her, I placed my mouth over one pebbled nipple. “I want your trust.”

  Suckling her deep, I lifted the arch of her still-orgasming body in my hands.

  She clawed me back. Beat her heels at my ass. Tossed her wet, wet, wet cunt against my heavy cock.

  “Want all of you.” Moving fast, I rolled down between her legs, lifted her thighs, and savored the sight of her, pushed high and open for me.

  I sealed my lips against her hot pussy, lapping her, slurping at her. Her body arched and shivered, and she shouted when I thrust inside of her with two fingers. Fucking into her, using my hand to open her, I licked down and down to the rosy bud of her ass.

  My tongue swiped against her, suckling the dripping juice running between her beautiful cheeks.

  “Storm?” She gasped.

  Tickling her shiny little hole with my tongue, I murmured against her. “And I want this too. Want to make it good for you.”


  I kept slipping my fingers in and out of her soaked slit, softly circling her sweet forbidden flesh with wet flicks and small presses. Tunneling inside the tightest heat, listening to her husky, sultry moans, I pushed my face against Blaize’s gorgeous ass and took her deep with my mouth.

  Her belly fluttered and her thighs quivered. She laughed and whimpered when I rolled her legs down to the sleeping bag.

  With her arms flung wide, she scissored her legs together. “Mmm. That was dirty.”

  “It was sexy as fuck.” I clenched my jaw, kneeling in front of her.

  I stroked the throbbing meat of my cock, running my fingers up to the swollen head, spreading the clear copious precome.

  She gasped, her nipples beading even tighter. “That is sexy as fuck.”

  “Want it?” Spreading her legs in a V, I slapped the girth of my shaft against her shiny pussy. “Want my cock?”

  “Yes. Oh, God yes!”

  With one mighty thrust, I drilled all the way into her.

  My grunt crashed with the sound of her shout, and she gripped me wetly inside.

  I pulled back, all the way, just as fast.

  She writhed and panted. “Please. Please. Please.”

  Pinning her legs higher, I slammed back into her, circled my hips, withdrew.

  Leaving her aching and pink and pulsing and panting.

  Her hands fisted in the sleeping bag. “Fuck me, Storm. Fuck me!”

  Growling low, I leaned on top of her. I grabbed her hands, laced my fingers through hers. That time—my entire body shuddering with restraint—I took my time. Eased into her clutching hot cunt, each hard thick inch at a time.

  She came with a wail of my name. When I ripped out of her she screamed even higher.

  And I waited. My forearms knotted. My neck corded. Shoulders bunched. My cock pulsing.

  Watching her gyrate, her labia engorged and slippery and seeking.

  Dipping my cockhead in, I rolled my hips, bringing her hand to the base of my cock.

  Dragging out. Dipping in. Watching her drip down her thighs, along my shaft, over my come-filled balls.

  Flinging her hand aside, I drove deep inside her and stayed seated to the very mouth of her womb.

  Little ripples caressed me cockhead to root, and I gritted my teeth.

  Staring down at Blaize as she twisted and moaned, I grabbed her hair. “I want you to beg me.” I licked across her mouth and plunged my tongue inside. “Own me.”

  “Fuck me, Storm!” Her fingers dug into my back, my hips, my ass. “Fuck me! Love me!”

  Unleashed from the last of my restraint, I fucked Blaize with a torrent of wild thrusts. Curled around each other, we made love deeply, passionately . . . completely. I arched above her, clasping her hips, burying myself inside her with final flexing strokes. She grabbed my forearms and locked her legs around my ass. Taking me hot, and tight, and through the final aching pleasure.

  “Fuck. Blaize!” The words burst from my lips, harsh and raw.

  I tangled both hands in her hair, cradled her head, rocked into her a few more times as her voiceless moan melted against my neck.

  “Goddamn, cher.” Slipping to her side, I held her ass in one hand and squeezed. “I think you fucked the life out of me.”

  She rubbed her lips against my jaw. “That’s what you get for making me beg. Next time I might pull a weapon on you.”

  “I’m a faster draw.” My eyebrow arched high.

  “You wish.”

  “No. Really.” Pulling her hand down my body, I filled her palm with my already hardening cock. “See?”

  She laughed, nestling closer against me. “Yeah, but what you fire off from this thing isn’t exactly life threatening.”

  “Le petit mort.” I nipped her neck with my teeth then ran my tongue along her shoulder.

  Blaize flipped her hair back with another laugh.

  “God, I love that sound.” I drew her legs between mine and slid us inside the joined sleeping bags. “The laughing . . . and the begging.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  “Too late. Already have.”

  “Storm—”

  “Nope. Don’t even say another word unless it’s how much you love me or you want me to fuck you breathless again.”

  “Storm.”

  Using my mouth and my tongue, kissing her with all the emotions she pulled to the surface, I quieted her.

  When I relinquished her, she watched me with deep and dark hooded eyes. “I do love you, but—”

  “This is not where you give me the big brush off.” Bracing up on an elbow, I traced her puffy lips with the tip of my finger. “I’m not having it.”

  “Can I just—”

  “Yeah. You can just promise me things won’t change once we get back to DC. I mean, you can kick my ass all over the war room whenever you need to—which I’m sure’ll be often enough—but I wanna know afterward I’m going home with you, to you. My lover.”

  She bit my fingertip, a sly smile spreading her lips. “We’ll see.”

  “Bullshit we’ll see.” I lay down with an arm beneath my neck, the other one holding Blaize close. “I know. Now go to sleep so I can wake you up and have you again in a couple hours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  T-Zone

  BLAIZE HOPPED OFF THE back of my Harley, unstrapping her helmet. “You know what I was going to say that night at your mamere’s when you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise?”

  I dismounted the bike and rested my brain bucket on one of the ape hanger handlebars. Snatching Blaize’s chin between two fingers, I guided her to me for a quick hot kiss that left my pulse thrumming.

  “Something about how good I am in the sack? Or maybe how much you love me?” I said.

  “Yes. No. Stop making me flustered, Storm.” She gathered her leather satchel as I chuckled. “I was going to tell you I thought we should move in together.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing since we’re already shacked up, huh?” With a hand settled low on her back, I escorted her toward T-Zone HQ.

  “And, you will treat me absolutely no differently at work than usual.” She swooped through the big tinted glass doors of the unmarked building ahead of me.

  I watched her, chewing on my lip. The tight suit pants she wore left little to the imagination—and I had a wild imagination where she was concerned. The navy blue jacket over the very proper, completely crease-free, cream-colored blouse also only served to accentuate her lush figure.

  “Awesome. So I can just sit there, staring at you while fantasizing about getting you naked?” I started unholstering my Sigs, unsheathing my KA-BAR, glancing at her through a sweep of black hair. “Not a problem.”

  “Storm!”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “That is exactly what I’m talking about,” she hissed.

  “It’s not my fault when you dress like that,” I whispered, going through the usual high-tech security rigmarole.

  Eyeing her backside but keeping my hands to myself like a good boy—for a change—I did the thumb-scan thing. I stepped behind her—but not too close—as we navigated to the stairwell.

  “I could wear a paper sack and you’d get hard.”

  “Guilty as charged.” I watched her ass bounce. “Add in those heels and I’d probably—”

  Her eyes glittering, she turned to clap a hand against my mouth. “Behave.”

  “Try my best,” I mumbled around her hand.

  She snuck up to kiss me, a soft, sweet taste of her mouth. “Let me go in first.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  I gave her all of about twenty seconds before I rolled right in after her.

  She glared.

  I winked.

  The guys—Walker, Justice, Bane—whistled.

  Blaize and I had been back in DC exactly three days. The dudes had returned a week ago, after sorting out the Blood Legion shit and truly fucking that MC into the ground. K
udos to them for cleaning up our mess.

  It seemed Slade had had a change of heart. Instead of trying to get in good with Blaize on the chance she might offer him a job, he’d quietly ended his CIA contract and decided to stick around New Orleans. He was gonna help Angel make a fresh start at a new Blood Legion. A legit one.

  Two days earlier I’d jumped ship from my small, pretty much neglected apartment, and moved into Blaize’s place, which was definitely a step up. Not that I didn’t have money. Fuckers like us liked to squirrel away our danger pay—unless you were Walker, who bought a freakin’ horse ranch in Wyoming, or Justice, who had his mommy and daddy’s trust fund if he ever wanted to dip into it.

  Or, like me, I guessed, who purchased a decent house in New Orleans for his maw maw. Even if she preferred the backwoods cabin by the bayou.

  What did Bane do with his hazard money? Who knew? Probably bought implements of torture. And hookers.

  Blaize’s brownstone was old money and well maintained. She had a place for everything. I enjoyed fucking it all up, just a little bit. Because getting under her skin was my new favorite pastime. And make-up sex was the best.

  Besides, she needed to loosen up, which she definitely did with me. In fact, I’d been working on getting her real ready to take my cock in her ass.

  Almost had her begging for it, too.

  The best part about living with her—besides the epic fuckfests? She was sweet as hell early in the mornings when I brought her breakfast in bed just like I had at Thunder Road. And she was feisty as hell when I came at her all hours of the day—always ready for a quick tumble or a long sweet lovemaking sesh.

  It didn’t hurt that the woman was so smart she made me goddamned goggle eyed.

  Yep. Love was good. Life was friggin’ perfect.

  Rubbing my chest, I took my customary seat, as far away from Bane as possible.

  And as usual, the idiots tag-teamed with their crude comments.

  “Looks like someone’s finally getting laid on the regular,” Justice mentioned, all har-har-har.

  “Not him.” I glanced at Bane who sent his perma-scowl in my direction.

  “Told Jade you and Blaize hooked up. She sent this text.” Walker shoved his phone at my face. “Not sure what that emoji means.”