Strike Force

by Beth Rhodes

  She bit her lip, letting the feelings of her own pleasure swell within her.

  “Why did you come looking for me, Marie?”

  “I wanted to talk.”

  “Liar.” He’d had her labeled as a liar and a thief for as long as they’d known each other. He’d been right, even when she had her reasons. She heard rumors about the ex-wife and could understand why his opinion of her had been so strong. But this was now.

  And apparently, what they had was a truce-like friendship that had turned physical. Did he still see only the thief?

  “What do you see?” she whispered, as she absently traced a circle on his thigh.

  “I see a woman who was never mine be completely mine. I see her want more and settle for less. I see her grieve, looking for a connection and knowing tomorrow she will put her life on the line—again. I see a woman who pisses me off so badly, I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Her mouth fell open. His woman?

  The glare in his eyes flared into something much more volatile.

  And it made her breath come short, her heart pound in anticipation.

  He came in close, gripped her shirt, and pulled her up, making her stand in front of him. “Why?” he asked, desperation in his voice. His unsettled spirit filled the one word.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and circled his waist with her legs. “Because I owe it to you to do the right thing.”

  His eyes narrowed. In one motion, he pried her legs loose from his waist and slid her skirt down her legs. The cold air washed over her and then his warm hand was on her butt cheek. No panties. She shrugged. “I was about to get ready for bed. The day’s over, Malcolm. Will you finish it with me, please?”

  Her words spiked the need inside of her. She wrapped her legs back around him and squeezed her thighs, giving her leverage against his rock-hard abdomen. He took her mouth, standing there, and it was a gentle press, a lick against the soft flesh of her lower lip, and pure seduction as he convinced her to open to him.

  With agile fingers, he toyed with her and then entered her wet folds and found her clit. She shivered at the contrast of cool against warm as she let herself ride the sensation. “Is sex this way even poss—”

  He rolled his fingers back over her, shutting her up. “Orgasm, yes.”

  And he worked her, rubbed her, adored her small bit of flesh until the start of her climax streaked over her nerves. She rocked against his hand, her breath coming shorter and shorter. “Malcolm.” A moan escaped as muscles clenched on his fingers.

  His fingers plied into her, further, deeper, harder, and then he turned his hand and found that spot up and inside her, his fingers stroking the back of her arch. Pleasure flared through her, and the low glow of the lights in the cavern became an explosion behind her eyelids. Her body tightened on the pleasure of an orgasm so intense that she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to walk.

  He eased out of her flesh, taking his time, letting her feel the residual effects. And with it, he kissed her lips, gently, tenderly. It was enough to make her cry a little, but she shook off the sentiment, found the ground with her feet, and moved him back, back, back to the bench against the wall.

  She did away with his damp shorts, watching him spring forth before pushing him down to sit.

  “I’m not going to get splinters in my ass, am I?” he asked, looking up at her with a rare show of humor. It made her want to eat him alive. She needed this right now, needed him to distract her from tomorrow, from the worry of finding the worst.

  She took a knee on the bench next to his hip. His hands followed her movement and gripped her hips as she knelt over him and rested against his aroused flesh.

  “Please tell me you brought a condom down here with you.”

  She shook her head, sympathetic, but not disappointed. She ran a hand through his hair, which was beginning to dry along the edges. “I love your hair, Malcolm. Why do you leave it long?”

  She reached between them and took him in her hands. He jerked and moaned. “Marie,” he growled.

  “Tell me.” She caressed him, up and down, as his skin tightened on swelling vessels, and he became velvet in her hands.

  He shrugged, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. “Long enough in the military. I started to hate the crew cut. When I got out, I stopped getting it cut, found I liked it long.”

  He was such a bundle of contradictions. And he reminded her of being in the old country. She remembered being a girl and visiting extended family. Her dad had had short hair, turned by western culture, her great-grandfather had accused. Funny she was falling for a man who ignored the modern trends.

  Falling for him. Lusting for him?

  The familiar pulse beat between her legs. She drew her shirt over her head, freeing her breasts and arms. He leaned forward and suckled her into his mouth. The pull of basic instinct raged through her, and she ground her soft parts against his lap, massaging her already aching clit and setting her heart flying.

  He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples—no pain, only pleasure. Then he sat up and stole her mouth, sucking her tongue into his mouth. She lost all thought as the need for him overwhelmed her, stole her breath. Marie pumped, wanting him inside her, completely mindless now.

  She gripped his shoulders, lifted her hips, and almost came as she covered him, felt him so far inside her—

  “Jesus.” He lifted her off him so fast that she fell backward. “What the fuck, Marie?”

  “Crap,” she said, laughing, then broke off at the look on his face. “It’s not funny. I’m sorry.” She scrambled to her knees, on the ground between his legs. “I lost my head.” Then she lifted a brow. “You haven’t, though.”

  “Fucking close, Marie. I don’t have to come to get you pregnant.”

  On her knees, she put her hands on his legs and let them trail up his thighs. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip. When he still looked ready to blow a gasket, she took his face in her hands. “Look at me.”

  He finally did, a hard glint in his eyes.

  “I’ve had an IUD in since I started with Hawk Elite. Since we had orders to go overseas. It—uh, it regulates my cycle, even making it nonexistent most months.” She looked him in the eye, because she wasn’t a liar and she would never steal his peace of mind. “It seemed the simplest answer to worrying about when I was going to get my period while we were overseas and how to handle…well, the logistics.”

  Malcolm was looking at her through those sharp, hooded eyes. He leaned his head back against the rock wall behind him. Marie leaned forward and bent her head over his length, taking him into her mouth. She tasted herself on him. “I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  He sat up and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Is it safe?”

  Confused, she frowned. “What?”

  “The IUD? Is it safe for you?” He was playing with her nipples again, not really helping her thought process.

  She shrugged. “Nothing is as safe as nothing.”

  He slid his hand down her abdomen and cupped her.

  “But, for now, it’s better…” Her words fell off. “Let me go down on you. And next time, I’ll be sure to have a condom. You don’t have to trust me,” she added as her voice faded and her heart broke a little. She’d done that, had only herself to blame, knowing it would always be an issue between them. He might never trust her. And if she wondered if they could make things work, this was her answer. No.

  They would never have more. Not if there wasn’t trust.

  He brushed his hands into her hair and turned her face up to him. He studied her, looking at her as if wanting to know more. He kissed her, so gently. The tip of her nose, her jaw line, down her neck to her collarbone, where he sucked a little longer—leaving his mark.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The regret and guilt her words induced were a strange feeling for him.

  Did he trust her?

  He was getting there.

  But this time, it
wasn’t only about pregnancy or trusting her. He hadn’t been celibate, and even using a condom… What if some nasty shit got through? He needed to be tested again before he would risk her health.

  Marie was looking up at him expectantly, imploring him with those expressive eyes.

  He lifted her off her knees and set her in his lap, those soft knees and thighs rubbing against his sides. “Hold me,” he said. Plain and simple. When a light lit in her eyes, he knew she understood. Her hand came around him as his cock stood straight up against her belly. The juncture of her thighs brushed his balls, and she squeezed and massaged him.

  He never took his eyes from her face, wanted to feel every sensation with the look in her eyes.

  When he gripped her calves, his hips gave in to the urge to thrust. “Ah, Marie.”

  He couldn’t breathe, lost track of her face when his eyes slid shut, and he rocked his pelvis up against her. When she leaned over him, silently begging him to take her into his mouth, he nipped at her breast and then sucked.

  Her groan of ecstasy sent him over the edge. Faster, faster, faster…he thrust against her until release, as every muscle tensed, and he could do no more than hold on.

  ***

  Her head rested against his shoulder, her fingers played softly against his shoulder, and she sighed. She placed a kiss on his pec, her body pliant, completely drained by the aftereffects of what they’d done.

  He wanted to go back to yesterday, go back to two days ago. He wanted to forget she’d betrayed him as soon as his back was turned. He wrapped his arms around her cooling skin and lifted her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked down into her face and kissed her soft, supple lips. Her hold tightened around him, and he walked forward, taking her to the water’s edge…and then he jumped feet first into the pool.

  She screeched, the sound echoing off the rock enclosure until it was cut off when they dipped below the surface. She grabbed his leg, caught his arm, and almost took hold of his dick in her efforts to escape the cold water. He grinned as, seconds later, she pulled herself out of the water. “Holy shit, Malcolm.”

  Scrambling for her clothes, he got a nice view of her rear before she pulled her skirt over her wet legs and her shirt came down over her pretty head and sweet little rack.

  “At least you’re clean.”

  “I wasn’t dirty!” she exclaimed, her teeth chattering. “And how the hell are you still in there? God, it’s freezing.”

  He took one stroke to the edge and pulled himself out of the pool.

  “You were covered in me. We both were,” he said, lifting a brow. “And long years of special ops training.”

  “You weren’t a SEAL.”

  “No, but in the early days with Hawk, we all went through the same kind of rigors. Only way to stay at the top of our game. I already didn’t like to shoot and wasn’t a good shot, so I worked my ass off to make sure I rated higher in the other objectives.”

  No matter what happened next, he had to believe they could work something out. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

  Her gaze fell to his waistline. “Not overcompensating, though.”

  He laughed and spanked her rear as he went to his own pile of clothing. “Let’s head back up and get some sleep. Something tells me tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  They went up the way they’d come down. At the door, he could see how Dimitru hadn’t found the entrance. She must have set the lock their first time down. It wasn’t new. He could probably help her install something more high-tech, but it had done the job and sealed them down here with no trace from the house side, so they could get away.

  “Clever,” he said. “Your uncle’s been worried. Ever since your parents died.”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed the door open, and the light slashed through his cornea, blinding him.

  “About time you two came out of the closet,” John said with a laugh. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was heading for the master.

  Malcolm had planned to take the master, whether Marie joined him or not. Now he was pretty sure she would join him, but all they had was the twin in her room.

  “I didn’t think John and Emily were sleeping together.” Marie’s voice was filled with the same regret he was feeling.

  “Fuck if I know. He’s probably taking the floor.”

  Marie bit at her lip. “We could ask to trade rooms.”

  Frowning, he quickly looked at her and saw the bandage on her arm, reminding him she’d been in the hospital hours ago. He reached a hand out to her and drew her in. “Come on. We can handle it. Let’s get some sleep.”

  As she changed into a pair of sweats, he slipped into bed in a pair of boxers. He kept his back to the wall, his face to the door. Seconds later, she joined him and then curled up in front of him.

  “This is weird,” she whispered.

  “How?” he asked, wanting to know what was going through her head almost as much as he wanted to touch her again. Maybe even to run his fingers over her hair, brush it back, and trace a line from the mole on her cheek—

  And then he got it. “Yeah, this is weird. I think I want to fucking snuggle you, Marie.”

  She snorted a laugh and then lay silent for so long that he thought she’d gone to sleep, but she reached over her shoulder, took his hand, and wrapped it around her waist. “I like you too, Malcolm.”

  Maybe it was their release underground or perhaps he really had lost some of his game, but the next thing he knew, someone was pounding on their door.

  John swung the door open and grinned. “Rise and shine, lovebirds! We’ve got great things planned for today.”

  Light from the window poured into the room, and Malcolm grabbed his pillow and put it over his head. Marie was still in the same place, curled up in front of him. She stretched, tangling her legs with his. He groaned and shook her to wake her. “Come on, Marie. Time to get up.”

  She hummed, turned over, then sucked in a breath. “Holy crap. What time is it? Did we oversleep? Weren’t you supposed to take a shift on watch? What the hell happened?”

  She clutched her length of hair and held it off her neck at the top of her head. The ponytail she made fell down her back.

  Getting up, he tugged on it. “They covered for us. You needed the sleep.”

  “Food’s ready.” Emily smiled as she walked by, a bag over her shoulder. She was way too chipper to not be having sex. John’s gaze followed the tall blonde as she went down the stairs.

  Then he looked to Malcolm and shrugged. “See ya downstairs.”

  Malcolm ran a hand over his chest and scratched.

  “I’m going to shower real quick.” Marie grabbed her bag and ran for the shared bathroom, leaving him alone with thoughts of how the hell on earth he’d slept through his alarm, slept like a fucking baby with her next to him.

  He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened with a woman.

  In the last ten years, never.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Today was the start of the end. She’d held so hard to this stupid gold thing, the one thing she’d had, as if it would somehow keep her parents close. But the damn armband only brought grief, and now it was gone—like, really gone, not just stolen by the asshole and therefore retrievable.

  It was both sad and freeing at the same time.

  In the very deepest parts of her heart, she was kind of glad.

  If she ever got it back, she was going to give it away. Send it back to her distant cousins or something dramatic and permanent. She had to, because if she’d learned anything, it was the magic wasn’t real, it wasn’t a protection, like her uncle insisted.

  Instead, it was a damn curse, keeping her from being happy and taking the people she loved most.

  Malcolm.

  She stopped her hands halfway down the length of the braid in her hair and stared at herself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Slowly, she began to bra
id again. She loved him. She didn’t deserve him. She’d drive him crazy, for sure. But she loved him.

  He was a damn good reason to let the armband go.

  The final tug of putting the rubber band on the end of her braid reminded her of the wound on her arm. She lifted her sleeve and saw pale pink, healthy flesh. Two bullet wounds since joining Hawk. This was a dangerous business she was in.

  And if she was honest, she had to wonder why the heck she was so concerned about losing people. With her family’s record, she’d be the first to go. She smirked into the mirror at the morbid thought.

  The house was busy and loud when she went downstairs. Laughter from the kitchen slowed her steps. The rise and fall of voices. She could have been five again, racing to the kitchen for breakfast and finding her mom and dad. They’d have the radio on too.

  “Hey, you going to stay there in the dark?” Malcolm stood there, in the light, his head tilted. Her heart pounded and this crazy feeling hit her eyes. She blinked, wanting to stave off the reaction to seeing him. It wasn’t like he surprised her.

  The surprise was inside her.

  She wanted to be with him, in the light, for as long as possible.

  Malcolm held out a mug. “Got you some coffee.”

  With a nod, she bit her cheek and cut off the emotional display. Today was not the day to become a blubbering mess of fear and regret. Going forward, she smiled and took the mug from his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, went on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

  When she took a deep breath before pulling away, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently kissed her temple. She had to squeeze her eyes shut.

  And then he released her, and the noise around them returned. Stacy and Hawk worked together on breakfast. Emily sat at the table, cleaning a firearm.

  John approached. “Let me see the arm.”

  Marie held up a finger, took a sip of the coffee, and moaned in pleasure. “Oh, yes. Definitely, thank you.” She set the mug down and lifted her sleeve again. “See? All better.”

  He carefully removed the dressing and felt the skin around the wound then looked up into her eyes. “Clear eyes. Any pain?”