by KyAnn Waters
Jaron raised his weapon and took aim. Victoria put her hand on his shoulder, reminding him to wait for the perfect shot. He couldn’t afford to miss.
Bang!
One loud shot rang through the air. Victoria jumped to her feet and sprinted to the boat. Jaron was faster. They raced onto the wooden dock. She dropped to the mooring and loosened the knots as he jumped on board the small twenty-eight foot sailing sloop and rushed to stern.
Voices called from the little cottage. Jaron didn’t pause. Twelve years at sea with the military had honed his swift Navy skills. Sailing them to safe harbor would be the easiest part of this damn assignment.
“Hurry, princess.” The boat eased away from the dock. In the distance, a man jumped from his porch, screamed at a woman standing in the doorway to call the police, and then he ran back into his house. Jaron hoped the man wasn’t running for a shotgun, but rather, helping his wife to call the authorities. ES would be monitoring all police chatter in the area.
Victoria leapt onto the hull. “Tell me what to do!”
Wind direction was in their favor. “Steer us out to sea.” He scrambled from port to starboard and bow to stern. His hands shook as he raised the rigging. The canvas sails unfurled, popped, and filled with air. The boat pitched and rolled, cutting through the darkened gulf waters. Wind whipped his face and briny spray tingled against his lips. The beach quickly shrank behind them, the little beach house becoming a pinprick of light. He inhaled deeply, and for the first time in the two months he’d been on assignment, he released a breath and felt his stress level lower.
He walked the edge of the fiberglass sloop until he jumped down next to Victoria. She stepped aside.
“That was close.”
He nodded and adjusted their course. “Too close.”
“The man.” She glanced over her shoulder at the now far distant shoreline. “Did you kill him?”
“I only wanted to stop his pursuit. It was a leg shot.”
During this assignment, he hadn’t been given permission to kill unless absolutely necessary. With a shot to the leg, he’d ensured the man wouldn’t be able to follow them.
“Go below deck. We need fresh water.”
She smiled, her mind instantly off the injured gunman and the mission. “And food.” She stepped around the wheel and disappeared below deck. Her voice drifted from below. “I’ll feel bad about taking their boat later. Right now I need to pee, have something to drink and eat, and clean up. In that order.”
Jaron laughed and locked the wheel. He pulled the gun from his waistband and set it on the console next to the Captain’s chair. Then he stripped off his shirt and wiped his face with a relatively clean corner. He grabbed the beach towel draped over the back of the captain’s chair, wet it with ocean water, wiped his torso, and scrubbed his scalp. Wind off the gulf water was cool on his damp flesh, leaving him feeling a little refreshed.
Before long, they’d sailed several miles out to sea. The calm sounds of the waves slapping the hull lulled his mind. It had been a long night. Fingers of dawn clawed the morning horizon in ribbons of orange, purple, and blue.
He sat in the captain’s chair and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Victoria stood before him with a plate of food.
“Hungry?” Her mouth was soft, and her eyes sleepy. While she’d been below, she’d stripped off her dingy dress. A loose oriental print robe revealed a bit of cleavage and a lot of leg. The satiny texture didn’t do enough to cover her pebbled rosy nipples. Dark areolas prodded against the thin material.
“Come here.”
She stepped between his thighs and set the plate of fruit—bananas, oranges, strawberries, and grapes—and crackers next to his gun. Jaron fingered the fabric then tugged the belt of the robe, letting the material part. He placed his palm over her heart, feeling the rapid beat. She shivered, and her nipples tightened.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head, covered his hand with hers, and cupped her breast. Warmth seeped into his palm.
“I thought you were hungry.”
“Food can wait.” Keeping her hand over his, she trailed lower until their joined fingers brushed her damp nest of curls. “But I can’t.”
Jaron wrapped his other hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. Lips touched, and her mouth opened for him. He hummed in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, tasting strawberries, along with the beautiful woman. She straddled his thigh, rubbing her swollen clit against him.
“I need you,” she said.
“Tell me what you want.” His stomach tightened, and his cock pulsed against the fly of his trousers, biting into the zipper.
“Make me feel safe.” She twined her arms around his neck. Jaron stood, lifted her, and carried her to the bench seat on the port side of the sloop.
“You are safe,” he whispered, kissing the soft tangy skin of her neck. “And I’ll keep you safe.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “I don’t want you to make me promises, Jaron. I’ll take this moment. Make love to me.”
He growled and sealed their mouths. He’d show her his promise until she believed his words. He lowered her until her feet touched the deck. Then grabbing a blanket from the cargo netting along the side of the hull, he covered the vinyl bench. When he finished, Victoria sat and spread her legs. He focused on her pussy. Moisture glistened on her plump labia. Saliva filled his mouth, and his tongue swelled.
Jaron unzipped his trousers, and his cock sprang free, thrusting hard and dripping pre-cum. After pushing his pants past his hips, he stepped out of them and moved closer to her.
Victoria’s eyes widened as her stare went from his shaft—the veins bulging with blood and desperate for her touch—to his face. She licked her lips, placed her hand on the back of his thighs, and urged him closer. Positioned between her legs, Victoria placed her mouth over the crown of his dick. Soft, wet heat encased him.
“Christ.” Muscles in his arms bunched as he gripped her head. Smooth, full lips slid down the shaft. A sharp stab pierced his mind. He remembered her painted lips circling his cock. He hadn’t allowed himself the memories, the pain of his mistake and his loss too acute. Yet, here she was. He had a second chance to be the man she needed.
Her tongue traced the ridge, pressed against the thick vein pulsing along the shaft. She hummed, and the vibration traveled into his sac. His body tensed. Victoria’s mouth was heaven. She cupped his balls, and they tightened in her palm. Using her other hand, she fisted his shaft and milked him slowly. Mouth and fingers met in the middle. Squeezing him harder, she pumped faster, fucking him with her fist and mouth. She took him unbelievably deeper. Every nerve heated and sizzled.
“Princess, I’m going to come.”
She refused to release her grip or slow her assault. Pleasure increased. He felt her ministrations from the tip of his dick, tingling up his spine and into his mind where she had the most power over him. He grew dizzy, and she continued to suck him. Her tongue licked, curling around the head.
He gave himself up to his release. His eyes closed as he spiraled into a maelstrom of carnal sensations. Centered in the storm was Victoria. He shouted, erupting in pulsing jets of cum. Her frenzied sucking took him beyond release. Blood roared through his head. Thoughts clouded. When he opened his eyes, she smiled and kissed his cock.
First morning light shimmered off the water and sparkled in her eyes. Soft peach color tinted her cheeks. They were dirty, tired, and starving. But they were alive and together.
Jaron knelt in front of her. With a gentle touch, he trailed his finger over the satin skin of her calf. He lifted her foot and positioned her leg over his shoulder. Juices saturated her drenched folds. His hands trembled as he cupped her buttocks. Jaron kissed her flesh, tasting the essence of her arousal. She was his. Whether she wanted to admit her feelings or not, she couldn’t hide the truth. He burrowed his nose into her blonde strip of curls and breathed deeply.
Victoria sig
hed and relaxed her legs. Her thighs fell open, and Jaron speared his tongue between her hot folds. Wild spicy flavors exploded on his tongue. He delved into her cream, licking, sucking, and reveling in the exotic tastes.
Jaron made the moments count. Sailing to nowhere, they were stealing a few precious hours to reaffirm what he’d almost lost—what he’d been sure he’d never have again. He feasted like a starving man, curling his tongue around her swollen clit and nibbling until she bucked against his mouth.
Her head thrashed on the seat, eyes tightly closed. Her breathy pants told him she was close. Reaching an arm around each of her thighs, he yanked her to the edge of the seat. Then he spread her pussy open, rasping his tongue from rosette to clit.
“Jaron, please.”
“Talk to me.”
“Don’t want to talk, want to come.”
He chuckled and pleasured her clit with his tongue in quick, fluttering flicks. “Tell me I’m forgiven.”
Her eyes snapped open. She leaned up and stared hard at him. “Forgiven for what?”
“For leaving.” He slid two fingers into her channel, searching out the sweet spot to make her come apart. Quivering hot flesh tightened on his fingers.
Victoria cried out as violent spasms rocked her walls. “Just don’t leave me now.”
Jaron gripped her shoulders, lifted, and turned her around. Bending forward, she braced her hands on the seat. Jaron grasped his cock, lubricated the tip with her juices, and then thrust into her from behind.
She moaned as his cock banged against the top of her channel. Hot, wet heat surrounded his shaft in a vise-like grip. Each deep slide sent a rippling wave of pleasure into his sac. Terrifying intensity propelled his powerful movements, terrifying because of his primal and complete feelings for her.
Victoria straightened, bumping her back to his chest. Jaron wrapped his fingers around the front of her warm neck and opened his mouth over her pulse point, sucking, tasting the spicy dampness of sweat and woman.
“Right here, right now,” he whispered. “We leave the past behind.” His thrusts became less frenzied, building to a slow crescendo. “We forget everything but right now.”
“Jaron, we can’t.” She angled her head, giving him better access to kiss her neck. “We have too much history.” She bit into her bottom lip and whimpered. He pressed deep and gyrated his hips. “We both have scars.”
He agreed, but in his entire life, she’d been the only one he’d let close enough to see his. He dropped his palm from her neck, trailing his fingertips across her collarbone until he cupped her full, smooth breast. Her chest heaved as she drew in a breath. He curved his other arm around her hip, brushing his fingers against her curls, then lower. He reached between her legs where their bodies joined. Cream soaked his hand, and he touched his cock as he slid between her pussy lips, feeling them stretch to accommodate his girth.
She sobbed, breaking into shivering convulsions, and crumpled in his arms.
“Hold on, princess.” Sliding his middle finger between her folds, he grazed her clitoris. “We’ll come together.”
“Can’t stop,” she panted. “Oh god, I’m coming again. Yes! Together.” Her pelvis tilted, and she rose onto her tiptoes. She trembled for him.
Wet sounds of their slapping bodies matched the rhythm of his pounding heart. Faster, short strokes kept him inside of her. He circled her clit, keeping her upright with his arm, and held her close. His balls tightened. His mind numbed to everything but the incredible sensations surrounding his dick and traveling through his body. Muscles flexed, and he ground his teeth.
A string of curses flew from her mouth. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped his forearm, her nails digging into his flesh. Convulsions clamped his cock in her quivering core. He locked his jaw and came. He felt each hot spurt of shooting cum. He groaned, pulled her tighter, and showed her with his body, his kiss, and his cock how much he wanted back into her life.
Chapter Five
Victoria pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins and simmered in the warm afterglow of sex. She listened to Jaron speak into the satellite phone he’d found below deck. He’d planned to use the radio, but the phone was faster and easier. After dialing into a secure relay, he’d finally contacted ES headquarters.
“ETA?” he asked. He gave her a reassuring smile, but she wasn’t at all reassured. She didn’t like the somber tone of voice.
“Yes, we’ll be ready,” he continued. “You can tell him she’s fine, if not a bit cranky.”
Victoria furrowed her brows. Under present conditions and the events of the last twenty-four hours, he was lucky to get cranky. She’d come into headquarters after a three-week rest. After a day with Jaron, she’d need six months. Her thoughts sobered. She’d just had six months away from him and here she was getting involved again.
He disconnected and wiped down the phone. “HQ was able to pinpoint our location through the satellite connection. We need to drop anchor.”
“How long?” She still wore the silk robe and would need to change back into her grubby dress before the extraction team arrived.
“ETA thirty minutes.” He sat next to her and rubbed a smudge of dirt from her cheek. “I couldn’t get details, but something is wrong.”
“Do you think it’s the assignment? Maybe the computer feed isn’t working the way you had hoped.”
He shrugged, stood, and began to lower the sails. “That would be my guess. Someone will have to go back in. But it won’t be us.”
She chuckled. “I think that’s a given.”
“Maybe, but I’m not talking about the assignment. I’m talking about you and me.”
You and me. Her pulse jumped, and her chest hurt. Twenty-four hours couldn’t erase the pain and betrayal of his leaving. However, she also knew she loved the stupid jerk. As long as they both stayed busy within Echelon Shield, perhaps they could find time to explore whether they had anything more than great sex. ES could tear them apart, but they’d just proven they could also work together.
Assignments could take from a day to several months. During downtime, if they agreed to give each other space, with no expectations, she’d be willing to give them another chance. This time, she’d be the one to set the terms. He’d have just as much to lose, because she never wanted to wake, thinking she was safe in his arms, and find him gone again.
“I’ll get ready.”
“Great,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”
A few minutes later, she’d changed and was back on deck. She spotted a ship off the stern. “Jaron.”
He shielded his eyes with his hand. “They’re coming fast. It’s got to be our contact.”
“Good. I want a hot bath and a cinnamon latte.”
He turned toward her and smiled. “That’s my princess.”
His princess. The words both thrilled and terrified her. Choking on her emotions, she swallowed hard and pushed her happily-ever-after thoughts from her mind. Jaron’s idea of a relationship and hers differed greatly. Until they were safely ensconced in the privacy of her house or his apartment, she wouldn’t attach flowery words to the riot of uncertainties she faced with Jaron.
The large yacht dwarfed the small sloop. Jaron waved to ES operative Simon Steel, waiting on deck.
A ladder dropped over the rail, and Victoria climbed to the edge of the bobbing sailboat and reached for the rung. Jaron put his hand on her ass as she leapt to the ladder and climbed to the deck.
“Welcome aboard,” Simon said with a laugh.
She breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe.
Jaron followed her up. “Glad you were in the neighborhood,” he said, pumping Simon’s hand.
“Happy to be of service.” He grinned at Victoria. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this dirty.”
“And, if I have my way, you never will again.”
“We don’t have much time, but I can at least offer you a shower. You should be able to find a change of clothes below
deck, as well.”
“I could kiss you.”
Jaron stepped close behind her.
“I think I’ll save this pretty face,” he scratched his stubble, “and settle for a thanks.”
Victoria jabbed her elbow back, catching Jaron in the gut. He groaned, but she doubted she caused any discomfort. The man had abs chiseled from granite.
“Kent Reynolds is going to sail the sloop back to the shore.” This was standard in situations where the operative risked recognition. An anonymous tipster would alert the authorities, and the owners would get back their stolen property in the same condition it was taken.
* * * *
As soon as Victoria went below deck to the cabins, Jaron turned to Simon. “What’s up?” he asked. “I couldn’t get details on the satellite phone.”
“Shit hit the fan, and you’re at the center of it.”
Jaron rolled his shoulders and tried not to think about the worst-case scenario. “Is the computer program bunk?”
“I wish it were that simple.” Simon gave a nod to Kent as he took possession of the little sloop. Simon and Jaron walked to the bow of the yacht. “Amine wants you at HQ ASAP. He’s sent a helicopter to pick up you and Victoria.” Simon cocked an eyebrow. “Speaking of our resident princess, last I heard, you two weren’t speaking.”
“In the past twenty-four hours, we still haven’t had much verbal communication.” He didn’t intend to fill Simon in on the erotic details. But keeping their association a secret in a close-knit organization like Echelon would be impossible.
“So it’s like that, my friend.”
“Yeah, something like that. I just need to convince Victoria. You know how opinionated and stubborn she can be.”
“Tenacious.”
“Exactly.”
“She’s going to make sure you know you fucked up before she forgives you.” Simon laughed and put his hand on Jaron’s shoulder. “You’re going to need back up when Amine finds out.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Whether Frank agreed mattered little. Jaron went after what he wanted. A small thing like the toughest, bravest, scariest Green Beret he’d ever had the good fortune of meeting wasn’t going to stop him. Jaron owed Frank Amine his life—a life he wanted to share with Victoria.