Falling Hard

by HelenKay Dimon

  “Only the few essential ones.”

  She thought about the top she still wore and the way he seemed satisfied to leave the material balled up against her breasts. The way his fingers lingered over her as he reeled her in. “Are you afraid I’ll freeze to death?”

  “Not happening on my watch. I’ll make it my personal responsibility to keep you nice and warm.” He used a gentle touch to move her legs, bending them at the knee and putting her feet flat against the blanket. His shoulders touched her inner thighs as he lay between them.

  Before she could drag in enough air to breathe, his mouth was on her. Licking and sucking. Warm breath brushed over her. The intimate kissing had her hips lifting off the blanket and her heels digging into the loft floor. When his fingers joined his mouth, she almost begged him to end it. The seductive torture had her both relaxed and on edge. The tight coil inside her had her panting with the need for release.

  His thumb flicked over her, and her shoulders came off the floor. “West.”

  He looked up the long line of her body. His mouth didn’t move from her except to utter one word. “Soon.”

  “Now.” Her need reduced her vocabulary to one-syllable grunts.

  Much more of this and she’d lock her legs around his hips and turn him over. The idea of climbing on top of him, sliding all over him, appealed to her. She was about to try it when she heard his zipper. One hand stayed on her as his finger slipped inside. The other opened his fly.

  Thank God.

  Her palms traveled over his shoulders, loving the hard angles of his body. She tried to turn to the side and reach down his back but he held her steady beneath him. She settled for bending forward and kissing his hair. Soft and gentle, letting her inhale his scent as she offered him her body.

  The move set him off. He lifted his shoulders and she saw a flash of determination in those eyes before his hands went to the waistband of his pants. She wanted to help but the energy spinning up inside of her exhausted her. She lay there, watching every delicious inch of him as he peeled the pants down and dropped his boxer briefs past his knees.

  When he lifted his head again, she knew every part of him came in at an impressive size. She had to touch him then. Her hand went to his erection. She wrapped her hand around his hardness, thick and long in her palm.

  As his finger danced inside of her, she caressed him, pumping her hand up and down. She wanted more but didn’t want him to stop using that hand on her. Her eyes closed and her head dropped forward. She wanted to concentrate on giving him pleasure but all she could do was drink it all in.

  He reached over and she spied the condom wrapper lying next to her arm. She didn’t know when he took it out or put it on. She was just grateful he did.

  One time, maybe over and done.

  But with the condom on and his hands pressing on the inside of her thighs she wanted to forget any restrictions. That was her last thought as he pushed inside of her. The friction fueled her. She felt every delicious inch as he entered her.

  Her inner muscles clamped down on him and heat smacked into her in waves. Her body went wild.

  The push and pull as he entered her then retreated. The spinning deep within her that sped up as she ground her heel into the back of his thigh. In and out. A steady rhythm and harder thrusts.

  He had a haze blanketing her mind and her body on fire. She clamped her thighs tighter against him, trying to quench the hunger for him. She could feel him inside her, around her. It was a sensual assault unlike anything she’d experienced before.

  He plunged and their bodies slid on the blanket. Despite the stinging cold, sweat formed on the back of her neck. She could see it gather on his forehead.

  His muscles tightened as he held his body over hers. Tiny groans escaped her lips as he hit that spot that sent her head flying back.

  Everything inside her clenched and tightened one last time as the orgasm hit. Slammed right into her as her breath whooshed out. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she fell open. His head dipped and warm breath blew over her cheek. She could hear his grunts and feel his body shift over her.

  She came. The spooling inside her ripped. She bucked and held him as the sensations crashed through her. Her head dropped forward then back. She couldn’t focus and didn’t want to.

  Her haze cleared as his shoulders began to tremble. Her orgasm had touched off his. It held him in its grip now. With every push his hands tightened on her and he wrapped her closer. By the time he collapsed against her chest, the tension spinning around them had wound up to near screaming. Then it blinked out.

  With his mouth buried in her neck, he cuddled closer to her. The sound of their rough breathing filled the air. She tried to hold him but couldn’t drum up the energy. It drained away to pool in her belly.

  Her insides tingled as the thickness in the air evened out. She took advantage of the quiet to touch him. Her fingertips danced over his shoulders. She tried to think of something to say.

  He beat her to it. “I can’t believe I only have one condom.”

  She hadn’t been thinking that before. It was all she’d think about now.

  15

  WARD HATED the idea of letting Pearce go. The plan was the right one, but losing touch with the man, even for a second, pissed Ward off. They’d planted a tracer on him through his food, and Mike and Josiah would be up his ass the entire time. Harlan stood ready to take Pearce out sniper style, if needed. Ward liked that last part of the plan best, so long as he had West back first.

  The afternoon hours ticked by until they hit go time. The guards changed and the pieces clicked into place. In two minutes the Marines would muster for a briefing, and the contractors were out chasing a wild lead Ward had planted about a missing truckload of rocket launchers.

  With a nod, Josiah got up and Ward followed. He called to Mike over his shoulder, “We’ll be back in ten.”

  “I’ll be sitting here watching our prisoner sit on his bed. My life is exciting.” Mike stared at Pearce in the monitor.

  Pearce stared back.

  The plan depended on a few simple facts. The first being the dirty guard, Tom something—Ward didn’t bother to learn his name because the guy would be dead or in lock-up within the next few hours—would make a move at the clearest time, and that was now. Ward also counted on Tom not wanting to draw attention with a noisy takedown of Mike that would bring the Marines running.

  Mike was one of the biggest wild cards in the plan. He generally reacted on instinct, and this time he’d have to fail. Josiah would watch from a safe distance, ready to break in if Mike got in trouble, but Mike was pissed off he had to lose this round, fake or not.

  That was one of the things Ward loved about the men of Alliance. They rarely got on the wrong side of being injured.

  The mental countdown began. Josiah and Ward looked on from the closed circuit in one of the meeting rooms as Tom walked down the hall. He watched his steps and looked around before opening the door to the anteroom outside of Pearce’s cell.

  With a swipe of the security card, Tom was inside. The name and photo came up on the screen in front of Ward. It was not Tom’s. He’d either picked at random or targeted some sergeant and would let him take the fall. This Tom guy was all class. When he sold out he didn’t half-ass it.

  “Annoying as hell, but smart to steal someone else’s credentials for this.” Josiah pulled his gun, clearly ready to rush in to rescue Mike if needed. “But not smart enough to disable the cameras.”

  “Hard to, when he doesn’t know they’re there.” Truth was, the entire place was wired. The commanding general shared the layout with Ward, but Ward only showed Tom part of the setup. It let them run this scam now.

  Mike sat with his feet up on the table and his back to the door. Something he would never do. He stayed on alert always, and protecting their backs was second nature to Alliance members. But Tom wouldn’t know that. He’d be too wrapped up in making this grab happen to reason through the clues in fro
nt of him.

  Mike glanced over his shoulder at Tom. “Hey, man. You need something?”

  The guard hesitated. Just a second. Stood by the door holding it open until he finally let it slide shut. “Where is everyone?”

  “Ward and Josiah will be back in a few minutes.”

  Ward smiled at the delivery, calm and convincing. Mike also handed Tom a deadline within which to act. Go or walk away. For a second Ward wasn’t sure which way Tom would go. Then Tom wrapped his arm around Mike’s neck and tightened his elbow around his throat.

  Mike’s body jerked as the band came down. Those long legs kicked out. He knew how to break the hold, but he didn’t. He struggled and squirmed and then dropped down.

  Tom pushed him off the side of the chair to the floor. “Easy work.”

  “Too easy, maybe,” Josiah said from their watching station. “Is Mike really out?”

  Ward doubted it. Mike could hold on longer than that. “I told him to go fast so he didn’t pass out.”

  Josiah laughed. “This shit must be killing him.”

  “He wanted to just shoot Tom and Pearce and be done. Probably would have if he didn’t like having West alive and around.” Ward liked that about Mike. He’d encounter a threat and destroy it. That shoot-first attitude served him well in the military and now with Alliance.

  Tom stepped over Mike’s still body and around to the computer monitor. The security codes for the lock changed three times a day. Earlier, Ward made sure that Tom saw the handoff, then left the file in his locked top desk drawer instead of burning it as he usually would.

  The key was to make the situation just hard enough to be a struggle for Tom but not impossible. Have him sneak around and run risks. Run into enough roadblocks so he didn’t become suspicious.

  They seemed to be walking that fine line, but Ward wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet.

  After another swipe of the security card and more keystrokes, the lock opened. Tom pulled the door open and Pearce stepped out, tall and regal and looking every inch the British university professor he once pretended to be. The glasses were a nice touch. Ward didn’t even know for sure if Pearce needed them.

  But Pearce being Pearce, he didn’t race out to safety. Tom stood at the door to the hallway keeping watch and gesturing for them to go. Pearce ignored the frantic movements and walked around Mike’s body.

  Josiah stood up. “Shit.”

  Yeah, Ward didn’t like it either. Tom might not be schooled in covert strategies and tactics, but Pearce was. He pressed his foot against Mike’s side. He crouched down, just outside their line of vision. Part of his body was obscured and Ward couldn’t see what was happening.

  Josiah had his gun in his hand and walked to the door. “I’m going in.”

  Ward understood. Mike was his man and part of Delta team. That made him Josiah’s responsibility. “Hold.”

  Josiah’s expression turned to steel. “Pearce will kill him.”

  “No, he won’t. He wants me to see my failure.” This was a game of cat and mouse, and Pearce believed he was about to win. He would love that and think it handed Ward a huge defeat. Little did the guy know.

  Pearce stood up again and looked around. Could be he hunted for a camera. He’d never find it. The commanding general described it as a black speck on the wall. Every room had one, and none of his men or the contractors knew.

  Agitated and shifting his weight around, Tom came over to stand beside Pearce. Taking out his gun, Tom aimed it at Mike.

  Anxiety jolted through Ward. Mike had a protective vest but that wouldn’t do anything for him if he got shot in the head.

  “Ward, I’m going in.” Josiah swore under his breath. “I’ll torture the truth out of Pearce somehow.”

  Not going to happen. Pearce knew every trick. Hell, he’d taught interrogation at the CIA’s training facility. Breaking him would be hard if not impossible.

  “Wait.” Ward hated to say the word.

  Pearce’s hand shot out and he touched Tom’s arm, lowering the weapon. Pearce turned and walked to the main door, gesturing for Tom to lead. Then they moved into the hallway. They had a minute to get out before Marines poured out of the main briefing room. For someone else that could be a problem, so could the security system, armed guards, and the fence surrounding the property. Not Pearce.

  When Mike jumped to his feet and looked into the hidden camera, Ward’s breathing evened out again. Then Mike gave them the finger, and the tension tightening Ward’s muscles eased.

  “This will work,” Josiah said, more to the room in general than as part of a conversation.

  Ward wanted to be convinced, so he went along. “It has to.”

  Lexi’s legs still wobbled. The man might only have had one condom and one shot but he used it well. Right now he prowled around the inside of the garage, clearly uncomfortable about being pinned down.

  She watched, fascinated by the way he moved. That build, rugged and large, should slow him down. Instead he moved with the grace of a predator. Sort of like a lion playing with its prey.

  The sex had been wild. Open and free, no holding back. He touched her and tasted her. Plunged inside of her without handing her some “this means nothing” speech or flipping into the mode where only his needs mattered.

  He took her to the edge of reason and shoved her off. Afterward he comforted her. A few minutes of holding her before declaring it time to get back to work. Maybe she should have been offended by the abrupt turn in emotions, but she wasn’t. This, protecting and being prepared for the next attack, was second nature to him. She knew him enough to know that.

  She liked that side of him and refused to blame him for not being more cuddly. They were in the middle of a war zone, after all.

  But they had hours to kill, and sitting on the floor trying to keep warm was not her idea of the best way to spend them. She’d changed into a heavier sweater, and the boots she wore sat a few feet away. She needed them on because she knew West wanted her battle ready at all times.

  Grabbing the shoelace, she pulled the right boot closer to her. “My dad wanted me to be a doctor. Was yours a military guy?”

  The idle conversation seemed like a good way to fill the hours. It ranked higher than him listening to the army radio he picked off one of the dead attackers or watching him try to communicate with his team.

  Plus, she wanted to know more. They’d been thrown into this high intensity situation. She knew that accounted for some of the blinding attraction to the guy but there was something else there. He was so solid and clear on what he did and why. He didn’t question, and since she’d spent a lifetime questioning her every move and decision, she loved his approach.

  And she liked him. Too much. She’d closed her eyes for a second after the sex and fantasies started spinning in her head. She saw herself with West and not in Pakistan. In a big bed, acting like normal people acted who weren’t being gunned down.

  She could imagine it so easily. He wasn’t the pay-ten-bucks-for-coffee guy, but that wasn’t her thing either. He appreciated quiet. And if the way they lit up the blanket was any indication, he’d appreciate a few more rounds of naked touching with her.

  “Definitely not,” he said into the quiet.

  She’d almost forgotten what she asked but the “definitely” intrigued her. “What did he do?”

  “Dad collected weapons as he waited for the end of the world.” West turned around to face her after dropping that line.

  She laughed but West didn’t. That sobered her right up. “Wait, you’re serious?”

  “He believed the end was coming and that we had to be prepared. Shooting, foraging for food. Survivalist training.” West balanced on the balls of his feet in front of her. “I had it all long before I went into the military.”

  “But that’s crazy.” Then she remembered he’d said something about being able to recognize crazy. “How did you get away?”

  “Someone shot him and the State stepped in.” He offered
the fact then stopped talking.

  That food bar he gave her churned in her stomach, threatening to come back up again. “It wasn’t you, right?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  Her gaze traveled over his hair and face then dropped down to his arm. He had that thin black jacket on again but she’d stripped the shirt off him postsex to caress those muscled arms. “You didn’t shoot him, right?”

  “No.”

  She blew out a relieved breath. Not because she’d think less of him but because that would be a huge burden to carry. She knew guilt and she knew fear, and no one should be saddled with either.

  Her mind spun with a million questions, all of them nosy and probably inappropriate. She wanted to know how old he was and if he’d witnessed the horror. She couldn’t imagine how that would plague a person.

  But those questions would take time to coax out of him, and the rough answers might throw him off when they both needed him at top efficiency. So she went with what she thought would be the least offensive. “Do you ever think about him?”

  “I carry reminders.”

  She had no idea what that meant. “Emotional?”

  “These.” He lifted one arm then the other.

  She’d seen the tattoo bands around his upper arms. Not just on one side but on both. She didn’t know the right name to describe them. Tattoos were not her usual thing. His stuck out because of the print. Not flowers or a vine. “Barbed wire.”

  “They are a reminder.”

  She traced her finger over the one on his left arm. “Of what exactly?”

  “A time when I was bound to a man determined to cause death and destruction. How sick I felt. How desperate I was.” West pinned her with his intense gaze. “It will never happen again.”

  Memories bombarded her. Between this time and the time at Javed’s house she’d seen a lot of West’s body. The scars. His warrior wounds. But he had something else. Something that didn’t fit with how she viewed him.

  “I saw the marks or the other tattoo or whatever it is.” On his back. Just over his right shoulder. A series of lines and crossed-out marks. A count-off of sorts.