by Susan Stoker
“Okay,” she whispered.
Beatle shifted and gave her forehead a brief but heartfelt kiss, then looked up at Truck. “Let’s go.”
The larger man nodded and took two steps to Casey’s side. He picked her up as if she didn’t weigh more than a small child and nodded at his fellow Delta.
Without a word, Beatle slipped his rifle from his shoulder and held it at the ready as he made his way deeper into the jungle. He wasn’t thinking about how long their supplies would last now that their trek would take longer. He wasn’t thinking about his teammates, who were obviously under heavy fire.
No, his only thoughts were to keep Casey safe—and to wonder who the hell wanted her so badly they were ready to take on a fully armed team of Special Forces soldiers to get her back.
Chapter Nine
Casey wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she was scared out of her mind. She’d been frightened when she was first kidnapped, and of course when she’d been thrown into the deep, dank hole. But she’d thought she was fine after being rescued. In pain, yes. Thirsty and hungry, yes. But she’d never thought she’d be headed deeper into the jungle than she’d ever been before, on the run from an unknown threat.
It was scarier this time because she knew exactly what was in store for her if she was recaptured. She had no doubt whoever was after her would kill Truck and Beatle if they could. And that freaked her out even more.
She shifted her grip on Truck’s neck and felt him adjust her to a more comfortable position in his arms. She was grateful he hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but honestly, while being carried like this might seem romantic and comfortable, it was anything but.
Her feet were numb from his tight grip under her knees and her neck hurt from keeping her head twisted to the side to watch where they were going. She could’ve rested her head on Truck’s shoulder, but that seemed weird.
He was completely solid under her, every muscle tense as he half-walked half-jogged through the forest. Casey had the chance to be up close and personal with the scar on his face she’d noticed back at camp, but hadn’t really paid any attention to before.
It was nasty. Running the length of his cheek and down his neck. It was completely healed, but she could see the additional small round scars on either side of it, where staples or some bad stitches had once held the skin together. Not only that, but his nose had obviously been broken at some point, because it was frightfully crooked. His lips were pressed together in a thin line of concentration, and he didn’t even seem to notice her scrutiny.
Casey might’ve been feeling many things, but fear of the man who held her tightly in her arms wasn’t one of them.
She swallowed hard and readjusted her arms once more when her hands slipped on his slick neck. They were all wearing long-sleeve shirts and trousers. It was asinine to wear anything less in the middle of the jungle. It made the heat even more unbearable, but the sweat and stickiness was much preferable to being eaten alive by the mosquitos that thrived in the damp environment.
She was beginning to think Truck and Beatle were actually machines with skin stapled on, not completely human, and could keep up the insanely fast pace all day, when they came to a halt.
“We’ll rest for a bit here,” Beatle said, even as he kept his watchful eye on the jungle around them.
Truck leaned over and placed her on her feet, keeping his arm around her waist until he was sure she could stand by herself. He unclipped the canteen from around his waist and held it out to her.
Casey blinked at him. He’d offered her something to drink before taking anything himself. Which was crazy, because she wasn’t the one who’d been burning calories by running through the jungle.
She shook her head. “No, you need it more than me.”
Truck opened his mouth to respond, when Beatle spoke up. He held out his own canteen to her. “Here, use mine,” he ordered.
Casey looked up at him. His forehead was covered in sweat and she could see the tracks where it had dripped down his temples. There were sweat marks around his neck and under his armpits. She knew from watching him jog in front of her for the last hour that his back was also soaked with sweat. Compared to him, she was as fresh as a daisy.
“Have you had your fill?” she asked, not reaching for the water.
In response, Beatle reached out, grabbed her hand and wrapped it around the canteen. “Drink, Casey. You need the water as badly as we do.”
“But I haven’t been the one jogging through the jungle,” she protested.
Beatle leaned in so close she could see the individual hairs of his beard growing in. “True. But you were the one who not too long ago was in a hole in the ground with no fresh water. Drink.”
As if in a trance, Casey brought the canteen up to her mouth and took a swallow. It wasn’t fresh, it tasted metallic and like the purification tablets he’d used to make sure it was safe to drink. It was also warm; it had been so long since she’d had anything cold to drink, she almost didn’t remember how good it was. But she couldn’t deny her thirst once she started.
She forced herself to stop, but Beatle merely put his hand on the bottom of the metal container. “Finish it.”
“But—”
“All of it, Case. I can get more.”
She didn’t know where he would, but she did as ordered. She drank until the entire canteen was gone. She licked her lips to catch the stray droplets, and went to wipe her mouth on her sleeve. But Beatle stopped her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, collecting the missed beads of water there, and brought his hand up to his mouth without losing eye contact with her.
The move was sensual, and Casey wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and beg him to kiss her, but within seconds, the moment disappeared when Beatle took the canteen from her and stalked back to his pack.
She would’ve been embarrassed about her attraction to him, except she knew without a doubt he liked her as much as she did him. She could see it in the way his eyes raked her body. How he took care of her. How his pupils had dilated when she’d licked her lips after drinking the water.
But he knew as well as she did that, in the middle of the jungle, while they were on the run from whoever wanted to make sure she didn’t make it out of Costa Rica alive, wasn’t the time or place to act on their attraction.
“We’ll rest here for a couple of minutes, then get going again,” Truck informed her. “If you need to use the ladies’ room, do it now.”
Right. Instead of being embarrassed, Casey simply nodded. This was her new reality. Just like drinking muddy water in that hole had been. She needed to do what was necessary to stay alive.
She looked around and headed for a large tree nearby. Feeling eyes on her, she turned and shivered when she saw Beatle looking at her. In that moment, she relaxed, not realizing how wound up she’d been until right then. But seeing how Beatle was watching over her, no matter what she was doing or where she was, made her understand that he’d been serious when he’d told her that he would do everything in his power to get her home.
If a bad guy burst through the trees at that moment, she knew without a doubt Beatle would take him down. It should’ve made her wary to be around him, knowing how lethal he was, but it did the opposite. His ability to deal with the violence that had wormed its way into her life was a balm to her soul.
She nodded at him and got a chin lift in return. He tapped on his wrist as well, telling her to hurry. She nodded again and disappeared around the tree.
Luckily, she was paying attention to what she was doing and didn’t stand in the bullet ant mound to do her business. It looked like a bunch of mud wrapped around the base of the tree she’d chosen to do her business behind. At first glance, it appeared innocuous, but she knew from experience that, once disturbed, the ants would swarm, looking for whatever had dared to attack their colony.
She gave the mound a wide berth, making sure to be extra careful when choosing an app
ropriate place to pee. She finished quickly and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the ants.
Casey had come to Costa Rica to research them. She and her students had spent hours in the jungle outside their camp near Guacalito, observing many different species of the formicidae family. Every colony behaved a little differently.
By far, her favorite ant was the leafcutter. Watching them scurry back and forth carrying three times their body weight in leaves was amazing. Not only that, but before they’d been kidnapped, she and the others had found a mound that was over eight feet wide. It was monstrous, and amazing to think it could contain more than seven million of the small creatures.
Casey knew the ants could be extremely destructive, both with their foraging of plants and by ruining infrastructure with their huge nests, but for the most part, they weren’t aggressive. They could and would bite, but the result was usually only itchiness, and not all that painful.
Overhead, she heard the sounds of birds chirping and cicadas “singing.” The wind rustled the leaves in the trees and she closed her eyes, soaking in the moment. She loved the jungle…at least, she had before her ordeal, and she really didn’t want her unknown kidnappers to take that away from her.
Not sure how long she’d been standing there with her eyes closed, Casey took a deep breath and opened them, knowing she had to return to Truck and Beatle so they could get going again.
She gasped in surprise when she saw Beatle standing not too far from her. He looked relaxed enough, so she didn’t think he’d come to find her because of imminent danger. He seemed more introspective as his penetrating gaze stayed glued on hers.
“Am I taking too long?” she asked quietly.
“No. I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he answered in a low, grumbly voice.
“What if I’d still been in the middle of…you know.”
“Then I would’ve gone back to where I left Truck and pretended I didn’t see you.”
She liked how he didn’t beat around the bush. The thought of him watching her do her business should’ve been uncomfortable, but for some reason, it wasn’t. It was as if being here in the jungle together had reduced them to primitive roles. He was the protector, the leader, willing to do whatever it took to make sure she didn’t come to harm. And she was…
Casey wasn’t sure who she was. She didn’t want to think of herself as the weak link, but she knew it was true. She knew about bugs, sure, but other than that, she didn’t bring any other skills to the table. It was as if she were a toddler, completely dependent on Beatle and Truck to keep her safe and get her home.
She took a step toward Beatle, keeping her eyes on his. Then, feeling bolder, took another. She continued until she was standing right in front of him. Without a word, he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek with a feather-light touch.
The world seemed to drop away. It was just the two of them. They could’ve been standing in the middle of an eighteenth-century ballroom, for all she knew. She took a deep breath, then another.
His eyes flicked to her chest, then back up to her face. The glance was so fast, she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been watching him so closely. Her nipples immediately puckered under her shirt at the thought of him liking what he’d seen.
They were covered in sweat, not smelling or looking their best, but Casey had never felt so connected to another human being in all her life. Her hands came up and rested on the hard-as-rock muscles of his chest and she leaned against him.
The hand that had brushed against her cheek moved to the back of her head, and he shoved his fingers into her hair, dislodging the messy bun she’d put it in earlier that morning. Still without a word he tugged on the hair in his grasp, tilting her head back until her throat was exposed.
Casey’s fingers curled into his pectoral muscles and she licked her lips.
“You have one chance to tell me you don’t want this,” he warned her. His brown eyes looked black in the shadows of the trees.
Casey swallowed. This was the warrior she’d seen hints of. The conqueror, the badass Delta who took what he wanted. She could feel her pulse hammering in her neck and her breaths came out in small little puffs. “I want this,” she said softly. “I want you.”
The second the last word left her lips, his mouth was on hers, taking her as if he had every right. As if he’d fought a great battle and won her as a prize. As if she were the most precious thing in his life.
He didn’t ease into the kiss. His tongue surged into her mouth and took what it wanted. When she tried to twine her tongue around his, he growled low in his throat and tugged on her hair, tilting her head back farther and asserting his control over her.
Casey acquiesced immediately, letting Beatle take what he wanted. And he wanted it all. He learned every inch of her mouth, tilting his head this way and that to make sure he’d tasted all of her. And she stood docile and willing in his arms, allowing him to devour her.
He pulled back way before she was ready, but Casey realized when he did that she was panting for air. Beatle didn’t look at her, merely used the hand at her back to pull her close. She wrapped her own around his and clung to him. The hand at her hair relaxed but didn’t pull away.
She could feel Beatle’s heart racing and his quick breaths fluttering over her face. His cock was hard against her belly, but he made no move to thrust against her or otherwise make any move toward sating his obvious lust.
But he wasn’t alone in his desire. Casey knew she was wet, and not from the tropical heat, which had reached its peak of the day. She was more turned on from a simple kiss—okay, maybe not so simple—than she’d been from foreplay with some of her previous partners.
She pressed against Beatle unconsciously, as if doing so would ease some of the sexual tension inside her.
It took several deep breaths, but he finally stepped away from her. His cheeks were flushed and she had a feeling his scratchy five o’clock shadow had made its mark on her face, but she didn’t care.
“We need to keep moving,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” Casey replied.
He looked deep into her eyes for another moment, then turned her so her back was to him. She was about to ask what he was doing when she felt his hands in her hair. Closing her eyes so she could memorize every second of this moment, Casey sighed when he gently pulled the rubber band out of her hair and did his best to fingercomb the tangled strands.
“Did I hurt you?” Beatle asked.
“No. It…it felt good.”
He didn’t respond, but she could feel the tension in his body relax a notch. He carefully bundled her hair into a ponytail and wrapped the rubber band around it. When he was done setting her hair to rights, he turned her again.
Casey let him move her where he wanted. She still felt a little drugged by his kiss and the way he’d felt against her.
“I’m not sure how much farther we’re going today,” Beatle said. “We’ve put some good distance between us and whoever ambushed the others, but I won’t be comfortable until we’re several more miles away.”
“Okay,” Casey said, nodding.
“You okay with Truck continuing to carry you?”
Casey looked up at the man who had somehow become the center of her world. She once again thought that maybe she felt this way because he’d been the first person she’d seen when she truly thought she was doing to die, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She might have to go through therapy for the rest of her life when she got home to get over him, but home seemed like such a foreign concept right now, she dismissed the thought. For the moment, she was here, with Beatle, and she could tell by the passionate look in his eyes that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“It’s not my favorite thing in the world, but it’s obvious you guys can go much faster if I’m not fumbling along trying to follow you on my own two feet.”
“I need both hands free to take out any threat that might show up unexpectedly.�
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Casey tilted her head at him in confusion for a moment, then realized why he was telling her that. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I’m all right with Truck.”
“It’s probably better anyway,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “If I had you in my arms, the only thing I’d be able to think about was laying you down and having my way with you.” Then his eyes met hers again, and she felt the full force of his desire once more. “But mark my words, there will be a time when I do have you in my arms. I’ll carry you to bed, and there’ll be no escaping everything I have planned for you.”
Casey’s lips twitched, but she controlled the smile that wanted to come out. “I can’t wait.”
His nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he grabbed her hand and turned to head back toward where Truck waited for them. The big man didn’t comment on the amount of time they’d been gone, and he had the decency to keep his thoughts about the beard burn on her face to himself. He merely shrugged his pack on and waited.
Beatle got himself sorted and gave Truck a chin lift. As if that was the cue he’d been waiting for, Truck came over to Casey.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” she confirmed.
He bent over and picked her up as if her weight didn’t even register. Before they’d gone two steps, Truck said, “There’s a protein bar in my top left pocket. You need to eat.”
Following the unspoken order, Casey reached in and grabbed the chewy bar. She’d never been a fan of protein bars. They had a weird consistency and took way too long to chew for her liking. But she consumed the calories without complaint, knowing the alternative, dying in a hole in the jungle, was way worse.
They hadn’t been on their way for more than twenty minutes when Beatle came to a sudden halt. Casey felt Truck stiffen under her, immediately on alert.
Beatle gestured to the right, and he and Truck slowly eased to their left and behind a couple of large tree trunks.