“I guess that makes us even then. One apology each.” He took a step, dropping his crossed arms as he closed the space between them. “Fresh start?”
“How about we leave it at 'thanks, please drive through'.” She stepped back until her ass hit the counter behind her again.
He inched closer. “Drive-by kissing really isn't my style.”
“Oh yeah? What is your style?” Damn her mouth taking off with her words before she had a chance to stop them. Because challenging the hot man pinning her to the counter was the best she could do in that moment?
He slid his hands along her hips, and lifted her onto the counter, leaning into her. Velvet-soft lips pressed against her ear. “I'm more of a hands-on kind of guy. Let me show you?” The vibrations of his voice and warmth of his breath launched a ripple of excitement from her head to her toes.
Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.
But he smelled so good, camphoric, woodsy mixed with ocean spray, buried under sex.
Pressing his lips to her neck, he placed a soft kiss along her skin, just below her ear, eliciting a whispered groan from her before she realized what happened. She gave him props, the guy had moves. Probably practiced them to perfection on all the Frog Hogs in the entire San Diego area.
She wept internally for what was left of her dignity as she gripped his shirt and yanked him to her face. Maybe just one more kiss, then she was definitely out of there. She slid her hand along his neck, guiding his movements. His soft lips tugged at hers, and his tongue begged for entrance. She dragged her nails along the skin at the nape of his neck. Noah groaned into the kiss and Jayla took the opportunity to sweep his tongue with her own.
He curled his fingers into her thigh as he pulled back from the kiss.
Jayla fluttered her eyes open. “What? Did it suck?”
“Hardly. As much as I really want to finish what we started, I came in here to take a piss.” Noah stepped back and gripped Jayla by the hips, pulling her from the counter. “Give me two minutes.”
“Piss. Right.” Jayla nodded and smoothed down her skirt. Saved by his urethra. She spun around, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Red lipstick smeared across her chin and cheeks. Not to mention her lips were now kiss-swollen. She looked like a clown that just gave a blowjob. Perfect. Would the embarrassment ever end with this day?
She gripped the knob on the door, but it refused to turn. Jiggling the handle, she pushed and pulled, but the damn thing wouldn't open. “Shit.”
“What's wrong?” Noah stepped behind her.
“I think it's locked. But how?” She bent down and realized the door handle had been put on backwards. It locked from the outside.
“You're kidding me?” Noah dropped to a squat and studied the handle. “Stand back, I'll try and kick it loose.”
Jayla stepped between him and the door, and crouched again as she looked at the mechanics of the handle. “Wait a minute there, Chuck Norris. This is someone else's personal property. Can we try another tactic before we resort to violence? It's always shoot first, ask questions later with you SEALs.”
“Do you have a problem with SEALs? Is that where your attitude comes from?”
“Excuse me?” She shot up and spun around. “Maybe if you took a minute to assess the situation before going off half-cocked, we could find another solution, just like with your Casanova moves over there.” She pointed to the counter where just moments ago she received the second best kiss of her life. But to him it was probably just a snack until feeding time at the Frog Hog Saloon.
Noah huffed and stepped back. “Wait … what? You're the one who kissed me first, remember?”
“Yeah, trying to save myself from Skeevy McLovin'. I thought you were the better option. Apparently neither were a good choice.” She pulled a hair clip from beneath one of her ponytails.
Noah shook his head. “You can't just lay a kiss on a guy, and then walk away like nothing happened.”
“Why not?” Jayla glanced over her shoulder before sticking the end of her hair clip into the screw on the door handle. “Guys do it all the time.”
His laughter echoed through the bathroom. “Oh. I get it. You've been burned by a SEAL in the past, right? So you assume we're all the same. Typical.”
“Listen, Hound,” she said, tilting her head up, realizing just how much taller than her he was. “Don't presume you know anything about me.” Clutching his hand, she flipped it palm up and shoved the door handle in it. “Have a nice piss. Hope your aim's better than your kissing skills.”
She stalked out the door.
Jerk. Asshole. Buttmunch. He had no right to assume anything about her. So why did guilt knot her insides into a pretzel?
Maybe because she just did the same thing to him. Lumping him in with all those other SEALs who never looked twice at her because she didn't have big tits and open legs. Because she didn't drink fru-fru wine and wear stilettos. Because she was a challenge instead of easy.
She couldn't very well run back and apologize. For one, he was taking a piss. Two, what was the point? She'd never see him again. He was shipping out for a mission to who knows where and who knew how long?
Jayla didn't want to be a military girlfriend anyway. The deployments, the secrets, the upheaval of their lives every couple of years. She watched her mom go through that as a military wife. Witnessed her heartbreak because dad couldn't keep it in his pants while deployed. While her mom raised three kids, her dad got some other unsuspecting Frog Hog pregnant. Nope, she didn't need that life. She grew up in it.
Today had been a good reminder on why she hated SEALs. Sure, they were top notch soldiers. Weapons made of flesh and blood. But the heroes on the front lines, were the heart-breakers behind closed doors.
* * *
Noah stood in the bathroom with his dick in one hand and his ass handed to him in the other. What the hell just happened? Was he being punked?
In a span of thirty minutes he had two of the sexiest kisses of his life and gotten verbally spanked by the same girl. Her perfume still lingered in the air, driving him insane. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face, looking at his kiss-swollen lips in the mirror.
He had zero intention of hooking up with anyone. When Wolf mentioned the BBQ, he thought it would be a bunch of SEALs and beers. Instead he got blind-sided and a bruised ego.
Didn't really matter in the long run. He'd be shipping out for his next mission in twenty-four hours. The likelihood of seeing her again was slim to none.
Ever since losing his mom at age fourteen, he'd blocked off a part of himself. Self-preservation perhaps. But more so, preservation of others. Since he blamed himself for his mom's death, he refused to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt or killed. The fewer people in his life, the better.
He wasn't looking for anything. If he wanted to get laid, he could hit any of the local SEAL bars and order up a bed buddy like a menu item. No names. No strings. No games. And he liked it that way. No attachments. No pain. For anyone, especially since he could never guarantee he'd make it back from a mission.
So why did it bother him so much that she stormed out on him? He swiped at the smudge of bright red lipstick smeared along his bottom lip. Despite the beer, she tasted like cherries. Maybe something in her lip-gloss. It reminded him of home, driving up to Door County as a kid to go cherry picking with his mom. Emotion knotted the pit of his stomach.
He didn't need complications in his life right now. He had a mission to prep for. Had to get his head in the game. Yet somehow, a niggle of a voice in his head urged him to go after her. Logic said to leave it alone.
Maybe, if she looked at him or sent him any kind of sign—other than flipping him the bird—he'd go back over and talk to her. If she continued to ignore him for the rest of the party, then he'd leave it alone.
He strode out of the bathroom and back to the patio. Noah forced himself to head over to his buddies and not search for her. But curiosity won out, and he scanned the faces of th
e people scattered around the yard. Every one of them blended right into the other. Jayla stuck out in a crowd. Unlike anyone he'd ever met. She must have left. Disappointment hung heavy in his heart as he walked over to Wolf.
“What'd you do to her?” Wolf smirked.
Noah stepped back at the accusation. “What about what she did to me?”
“Well, you did something to each other because she just took off with Melinda's car.” Wolf let out a laugh. “I warned you she was a firecracker. But she doesn't usually run off. Jayla's ...”
“Aggressive? Irrational? Ridiculously sexy in a freaky and alluring sort of way?” Noah spat out the words like bullets, firing off every emotion she sparked in him.
Wolf's brow lifted. “I was gonna say stubborn, but clearly you two got to know each other a bit.” A laugh punctuated his words.
“Yeah. A bit.” Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out the dismantled door knob that Jayla left him with, and a laugh bubbled up in his chest remembering the lame-ass argument they shared in the bathroom. “She left this for you.”
Wolf's eyes widened. “What the hell?”
“Oh no, did someone get locked in the bathroom again?” Caroline piped up from behind Noah. “I've been meaning to tell you about that, Matthew. Apparently the previous owner had the door knobs backwards.”
Wolf stared at the metal in his hands and glanced at Caroline, opening and closing his mouth like the words just weren't coming out to rightly describe the situation. He chucked the knob on the table and shook his head. “You can thank Jayla at work on Monday.”
“You work with Jayla, Caroline?” Noah asked before he could stop himself. So that was the link. She must be some sort of chemist, like Wolf's wife.
Caroline nodded. “I do. But she won't be in on Monday. She's on vacation this week. No idea where, though.”
Noah nodded. Just as well, since he would be in the middle of the Pacific come Monday, it didn't matter. But, maybe, after they'd both had a chance to cool down, he'd make some sort of excuse to stop in at Caroline's lab when he got back.
Something silver on the table caught his eye next to the jumble of door-knob parts. He studied it, noticing a serrated edge on one side, like a mini knife. Along with what looked like it could be a wrench on the tip, and the other side a screwdriver. Light lines marked the side like a ruler. Crafty little creature, that Jayla.
He twirled the tiny metal hair-clip in his fingers. It would be a lame excuse, but it would get him in the door.
Chapter Four
USS Gerald R. Ford
Middle of the Pacific Ocean
Hound dodged elbows and asses as he squeezed into the ready room for their mission briefing. Finding an open seat up front, he slid behind the desk and awaited their final instructions. They'd already gone over their tactical mission details with the squad: go after an arms dealer's underwater bunker, clean it out, blow it up, get their asses out of there. Simple enough.
The commander stepped to the podium as the rest of the squad took their seats. Noah stared at the American flag hanging in front of him, reminding him of his duty. This was what he lived for.
“Gentlemen, you've all been briefed on the objectives for this op. You'll go in via the SEAL Delivery Vehicle, remaining below the surface for most of the op. Get in, remove the weapons, dismantle the bunker, get out.” The commander blew out a terse sigh. “But we have a new caveat to the op as of a few days ago. We've got CIA involvement now.”
The white steel walls of the room echoed the curious chatter from mumbling SEALs. Hound twisted in his seat, eyeing his teammates, before returning his attention to the commander. He swore he caught him rolling his eyes. Noah quirked a curious brow.
“Intelligence has learned the Indonesian arms dealer we're up against, Abdul-Mu'eid Bahri, is hosting a gathering tomorrow night. He'll be entertaining prospective buyers of his weapons, most with ties to Al-Qaeda. The CIA has an operative that will be planted at the party, specifically to retrieve the list of potential buyers and future deals he has in the works.” The commander flipped on the computer screen overhead showing the layout of the island and mansion.
“Sir, can't we just send Shadow in to snipe him?” Steel asked.
“The CIA needs his ties to Al-Qaeda for more intelligence gathering. He's buried deep, and the more moves he makes, the better they can infiltrate the operation,” the commander replied.
“Sir, excuse me, but wouldn't us blowing up his bunkhole alert him that we're on to him?” Brawn asked.
“That's exactly what they want to happen. He has many other safe houses all throughout Indonesia. We're hoping he retreats to his other locations, leading us right to them. We'll then see the chain of command he reports to,” the commander answered. “That's all I can advise on the CIA involvement. You are to get in and get out on your own mission. Leave Bahri alive, unless otherwise communicated,” the commander said.
Nods from everyone in the room acknowledged the commander.
“Hound, once you're done with the bunker, you are to head to the north side of the island, here,” the commander said, pointing to the map. “You'll take a surface craft and rendezvous with the CIA agent and extract her from the mansion. You're the tracker, if something happens you're the best shot of getting off the island.”
“Sir, excuse me, but, you said 'her'?” Hound asked. Why would they send a female operative in for an Al-Qaeda based mission?
“I know what you're thinking. I don't like this anymore than you do.” He grunted and clenched his hand to a fist. “But she's best designed for this mission. From what I'm told she's fluent in Russian, and will be acting as a negotiator from an interested party in Kazakhstan. The CIA has already detained the real agent she will be impersonating.” The commander cleared his throat. “She goes by the code name, Fox, and has a laundry list of unique qualifications for the mission. You don't need to worry about her. Just do your job and get her out of there.”
A familiar scent filled the room, and Hound sat straight up in his seat. Twitching his nose, he let the amber and musk saturate his senses. Where did he know that smell from? And why was it in the middle of an aircraft carrier?
“Gentlemen, meet Fox.” The commander fanned his arm toward the back of the room.
“Zdravstvuj, mal'chikov,” Fox said, sauntering into the room. “In other words, howdy, boys.” Long black hair hung down her back, with streaks of pink peeking out. A black pleated mini-skirt hugged her hips, over a pair of white tights with baby seals on her thighs. She turned around and those ice-blue eyes stopped Noah's heart cold.
Shit.
“Jayla?” Noah mouthed her name, unsure if any sounds came with it. His heart slammed against his chest wall. How … wasn't she just a chemist? She tucked her hair behind her ear, no longer in the familiar ponytails, and glanced at him.
“I hear I'm going to be working directly with Hound over here.” She thumbed in his direction. “Any jokes about The Fox and The Hound and I will publicly shame you on the book of faces. Got it?”
No denying it was Jayla. Noah tucked his chin and shook his head, rubbing his thumb along his brow. This entire op had bad written all over it. Nerves knotted his gut. Sure, every mission had its issues that would scare the shit out of someone. But this … this had a whole new set of worries attached to it.
Tuck it away, Noah. Focus, and keep your mind in the game. No distractions.
“You will depart at sixteen hundred hours. It's a two hour ride to the bunker from our present location. You'll be taking a surface craft the majority of the way in. Then switch to the SDV. Fox will be choppered in from a civilian craft, as expected from the Kazakh agent. Any questions?” the commander asked.
A round of head shaking confirmed the mission was now in full swing.
“Also, we've got a projected hurricane about thirty-six hours out. Seas will be choppy and squalls will be expected. But this is our one shot at this. So you need to get in and get out. Dismissed.”
/> He exited the room with long, swift steps. His fast exodus said he was just as thrilled about this little caveat as the rest of the team. The SEALs did their own thing. Did shit their own way. CIA involvement meant red tape, coordination, and more lives at stake. Usually more headaches.
Jayla followed the commander, almost as fast. Noah slid out from his chair, hoping to catch up to her. But Digger and Brawn stopped him in the aisle, blocking his way.
“Dude, isn't that the chick you were sucking face with at Wolf's party?” Digger asked, slapping Noah on the shoulder.
Noah swallowed hard. “I think so. It's all kind of a blur.” He knew they wouldn't buy into it. Jayla stood out, no mistaking her. Ever. But it was the best he could come up with. He hoped to avoid the jabs that would soon follow.
“Did you know she was CIA?” Brawn asked.
Noah shook his head. “No. As far as I knew she worked with Wolf's wife. I'm just as shocked as you guys.”
“Fate, bro. But good luck getting laid in the head aboard ship. Bit more of a tight squeeze than Wolf's bathroom.” Digger threw his head back with a laugh.
Noah held back an eyeroll. “Nice. Don't you have a poster in your bunk to go jack off to?”
Digger winked and flipped him the bird, gripping Brawn's shoulder, guiding them both out of the ready room. Brawn shucked his hand away with a growl. Noah studied them and tossed a thought around in his mind, but shrugged it off. He needed to find Jayla.
Noah exited the ready room and searched the narrow hallway for any sign of Jayla. She'd disappeared as fast as she did at the party. He reached into his BDU pocket and fingered the hair clip with a smile.
* * *
Jayla sucked in a deep breath and stalked the tight halls of the ship like one of those determined granny mall-walkers. Thank gawd she wasn't trapped in one of those submarines. She needed air. Fresh air not inhabited by the smell of sweat socks and testosterone. Especially Noah's.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: The Fox and The Hound (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Breaking the SEAL Book 1) Page 3