Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance

by Leslie Johnson

  I smile at him and his smile grows wider, and something deep inside me flutters. “I hope so, Mom. Cause I have a thing for him too.”

  Before Mom can say anything else, Link is there and I step into his arms. He reaches around me and holds out a hand to my mother. “Link Duffy, ma’am. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  Mom’s cheeks turn a pretty pink as she looks between the two of us. “It’s very nice to meet you too. Please call me Carol.” Then she stands there, looking at a total loss of what to do or say next.

  Papaw, of course, jumps in. “Promised this boy some biscuits and gravy. I’ll call Nancy to come over and help.”

  Tate steps in, gives my mom a quick, “Excuse me, ma’am” then turns to Link. “Site is cleared, rival took off. One of my men got a locator on their van at the bridge. They’re heading east. My headquarters is monitoring them. Randall and Logan are standing post here until Bird Two gets here, then we’ll hold perimeter.” He looks at me, then back at Link. “We need to determine strategy.”

  Link nods at Tate and gives me a squeeze. “Any chance I can get cleaned up here? Or I could get a hotel if that’s better. And we need to take care of your shoulder.”

  My mom snaps out of her surprise. “Yes, of course. And I’ll get started on that breakfast.” She looks up at Tate. “How many additional men are coming?”

  While Tate and Mom argue on how she doesn’t need to feed everyone, I’m distracted by my gran and papa coming around the corner. These are my mom’s parents and they have a little place on the farm. They moved here a couple years ago when papa’s health started getting bad.

  After another round of hugs and tears, I’m finally able to get Link inside and upstairs to my old room. It’s exactly as I’d left it, a mix of purple and green that I’d thought was so grownup during my college days. It doesn’t feel very grownup now.

  The moment we’re inside the room, Link closes the door and pulls me into his arms. I giggle and he hushes me. “Don’t you dare make a noise,” he says as he nuzzles his face in my neck. “Your papaw is damn scary.”

  I giggle again and he takes my mouth in a hot, open kiss that melts us together and stokes the flame curling inside my belly. I reach for the waistband on his pants and he pulls away. “Oh no,” he whispers. “Not with your parents downstairs.”

  “Oh yes,” I whisper back. “A quickie. Please. I’ll be quiet.”

  He groans and pushes my hair back from my face as I caress his erection through his pants. He’s long and thick, so hard for me, even in our awkward circumstances. I reach for his pants again, but he grabs my hand and lifts it to his lips. “Wicked temptress. Let me take a shower. I’m not sure how much of this blood is mine and we need to patch you back up.” He kisses me again. “Soon. I promise.”

  Pouting, I dig through our bags and find us some clean clothes as well as the medical supplies we both need and the extra battery and charger for his prosthetic. He’s covered with scratches that need some ointment, one or two places might need stitches. As I’m bent over, he comes up behind me and grabs my hips, pulling my bottom back into his cock.

  “Oh no,” I say over my shoulder, mimicking his tone from earlier. “Not with my parents downstairs.”

  He grins and grinds into me harder. “I can’t wait to take this ass,” he says and pushes my head down on the bed. “Just like this. You bent over, lubed up, wait—”

  Two quick knocks on my door is followed by the turn of the handle. Link jumps back, nearly falling in his haste as my sister sticks her head through the door and giggles, “Oops.”

  Link turns away from her, running a hand through his hair, and gives himself an adjustment as I stand and slap my hand across my face. “Have you ever in your life waited for someone to say, ‘come in’?”

  She grins. “What good would that do? I could practically hear you two fornicating from downstairs. Just trying to save you from Papaw’s wrath. He keeps looking up at the ceiling and growling.”

  I sigh, unable to resist grinning back at the face so much like mine. “Faith, let me introduce Link Duffy. Link, my baby sister, Faith.”

  Link grabs some clothes from the bed and holds them in front of him while he turns. “Nice to meet you. I’m going to take that shower now.”

  Faith grins at him. “Better make it a cold one.”

  His mouth twitches. “You remind me of my sister, Camille.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Faith says, folding her arms over her chest.

  He looks at her, serious now. “It is.”

  Half an hour later, we’re both showered, dressed, wounds cleaned and sitting at the breakfast table, surrounded by the people I love. Except my brother. He popped in on his way to work and gave me a hug, but couldn’t stay any longer. I wish I could have seen my niece.

  My sister is on spring break this week, enjoying time off from her middle school teaching position. She’s got my two-year-old nephew on her lap. Fate is sitting on his lap, looking like she’s fallen into heaven.

  Faith married her high school sweetheart the month after high school graduation, then became pregnant the following year. She juggled a husband, a pregnancy and new baby all while keeping a 4.0 grade point average. She’s super mom in the flesh. And good at math. She teaches sixth grade algebra.

  Little Lucas has been staring at the strange men at the table, his thumb firmly in his mouth while he strokes Fate’s soft fur with the other. The back door slams and craziness begins as Hayden and Jayden come running in. “Auntie Grace!” They’re screaming at the top of their lungs.

  Then she’s there, Natalie, holding onto little Emma Grace. Tears are streaking down her face and she grabs hold of me, squeezing the baby between us. “I’ve been so worried.” The twins are each hugging one of my legs and I can’t touch them all quickly enough. “They told me you were shot,” she says, looking me over. “Are you okay?” Then she looks at my hair. “Good grief, Grace, you’re a frizzball again.”

  Over her endless chattering, I hear a phone ring and see Tate stand and excuse himself from the table. I convince Hayden and Jayden to take Lucas and Fate outside, cutting down the noise within the farmhouse considerably.

  I introduce Nat to Link and they greet each other warmly, but I can tell Link’s attention is on the room Tate entered. A band squeezes over my chest as Tate steps to the door and lifts a chin at Link, the phone still pressed to his ear. Link stands and I grab his hand. He smiles down at me. “Be right back.”

  I make a gun out of my hand, narrowing my eyes as I pull an imaginary trigger.

  He smiles and pushes my hair back again. “Be right back. I promise.”

  The entire table grows quiet in his wake. My dad and my grandfathers look at each other. A chill passes through me and I hold the baby on my lap tighter.

  “What’s wrong?” Natalie asks and reaches over to wipe Emma’s chin. Natalie looks around the table. “Somebody, tell me what’s going on.”

  “This isn’t over yet, Nat,” I say gently. “We still don’t know who is after Link. He’s in danger until he finds out.”

  She swallows. “Does that mean you’re in danger too?”

  I lift a shoulder and grip her hand.

  I honestly don’t know.

  Chapter 11 – Duffy

  I walk into the small den area where Tate retreated with his phone. He’s pacing, listening to someone on the other end.

  “Do you believe him? Do you think he can cheat the test?”

  He listens again and pops a last bit of biscuit with strawberry jelly in his mouth. He chews and listens. “Hang tight. I’ll get back to you.”

  Disconnecting the call, he drops the phone in his pocket, turns and sits on a chair. I follow suit and lean forward, watching him think things through. This was how he worked when we were in Green Berets together. An analyzer. And his thought process was usually spot on and brilliant.

  “Told you it was a long story— the way I found you.”

  I nod and wait
.

  “My company is the one who attacked you in Colorado.” He holds up a hand. “I was out of the country and one of my men, my former men, made the decision. I don’t go after military, but he broke the rules, took your bond. You were listed as a threat to national security with extreme prejudice. My right-hand man made contact with me and I got back in enough time to hold the men on perimeter and turn it into a protection detail. I got there as soon as I could, but you were already gone.”

  I remember. The mystery of why the outside team stood down. The helicopter. The man dropping in. It was T-rod. Tate.

  We served in Rangers together. Then Berets.

  Tate had been one of the men in the barracks the night Mattie told me she was pregnant. He and Darren had followed me out the door and then helped me get good and drunk after I’d told Major General Voit I wanted to re-enlist.

  We’d saved each other’s asses a number of times until the last time, when Tate had taken sixteen rounds and nearly died. He’d retired after that. I knew he’d started a security company somewhere near Salt Lake City, building it from the ground up.

  Unbelievable.

  It had been his men who came after Grace and me at the cabin. Four of which I killed.

  Dammit.

  “Tate, I’m sorry. Your men. I took down your men.”

  Tate lifts a hand, points at me. “Don’t go there. You did what you had to do. You didn’t have a choice and you didn’t kill them. My employee did. Man named Doyle Andrews killed them. And he might be the key to figuring out who put the bond on your head and…”

  “Who set up the raid in Syria,” I finish for him.

  He nods. “Exactly.”

  “What’s the next step?”

  He meets my eyes. “My men have been, ah, persuading Andrews to talk. Andrews is a high-level hacker and I believe he took the bond with full knowledge of who was extending it. He’s smart. Damn smart. And I was right. The persuaders learned that he does have that information. His plan was to take the bond under the cover of my company, then blackmail the holder afterwards and pocket the cash.” Tate’s jaw twitches. “Looks like he’s done it before.”

  “Clever.”

  Tate nods. “Very. Except he made a fatal flaw of choosing one of my friends.”

  I blow out a breath. “So, what’s the next step?”

  “Andrews has agreed to turn over the information in exchange for enough money to skip the country and drink Mai Tais on some warm sandy beach.”

  I snort. “That’s a shocker. How much is he wanting?”

  Tate holds up five fingers. Five million. I was expecting more.

  “Can we trust the information?” I snort again at the stupid question. But Tate knows my intent. Am I about to trade five million for a handful of shit?

  He looks at me squarely. “Fifty-fifty. They’re putting him through lie detection now, but you know how easy those are to trip.”

  I nod. I know it very well. “Can you hold him long enough to bait the hook on the douche who set us up? If I double the reward, think we can convince Andrews to play?”

  Tate considers it. “Don’t know. He knows his chances of making it to that beach are not on his side.”

  “So we’re at a stand-off?”

  Tate dips his head. “Yes.”

  “What if I set it up that he gets his five million now and, if the information pans out, I add another five afterwards?”

  Tate narrows his eyes. “Duff, you know that, if we do catch the mole holding your bond, it is just one hole being plugged in a sea of holes?”

  I nod. “But it’s my hole, Tate,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to keep my voice down even though I want to scream it from the top of every mountain. “A damn big hole. Whoever this hole is—this person is—relayed information to someone and it set off a chain of events that killed some damn fine men, put a huge dent in the effectiveness of the US Armed Forces and put a bullet in my future wife’s shoulder. This hole almost killed her. It killed men lying in hospital beds with nowhere to run. It killed men sitting down at the dinner table. Over a hundred men, Tate. One of which should have been me. If I didn’t have the money I have, the resources I have, I’d be dead right now too.”

  I stand up, feeling the guilt of that statement slice through me. Take a bite out of my spirit. The truth of it kicks me in the chest.

  Tate stands up too, gets in my face. “Damn right you survived because of your money. That’s why you were chosen, you asshole. Don’t you see it? That’s why God or the Universe or whatever the hell chose to save you. Because you had the best chance out of everyone to close the hole. You had the best chance to shut them down. If I were the ruler of the universe, I’d have chosen you too. So shut down the guilt or whatever is going through you right now because it’s fucking pathetic to watch and we’ve got a job to do.”

  He’s right.

  I didn’t even know I needed to hear it.

  “Okay, I can live with that.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Alright, let’s come up with a plan.”

  Tate sits down and leans back in the chair, giving me a small grin. “I have an idea, but it kinda involves me killing you two again.”

  Chapter 12 – Grace

  “More champagne, Miss Johnson?” The very nice, very pretty flight attendant asks me, pulling my gaze from the patchwork of land far below.

  We’re leaving Salt Lake City. We got here yesterday, to Tate’s corporate office so he and Link could “extract vital information” before we head to Washington D.C., which is where we’re headed right now.

  I turn to her and lift my glass. “Yes, please.” Then I laugh. “You might just want to leave the bottle.”

  Smiling, she fills the glass, then steps aside as Link comes up the aisle and sits down beside me. Damn, he looks good. Gone are the sweats he’s practically lived in the past couple weeks. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of dark jeans that cling to his ass just right and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the top button left open. His black jacket is tossed on another seat of the luxurious jet.

  While he was ‘extracting’ I’d gone shopping for clothes and other things we would need for today.

  “Champagne, Mr. Duffy?” she asks prettily.

  He grabs my hand and links our fingers together before shaking his head. “I’ll take a beer if we have any stocked. Should probably go ahead and grab two.”

  “Of course.” The attendant is back in a flash and Link takes the bottle but turns down the offer of a glass. He downs the beer, draining it in one long slug. She takes the empty and hands him a fresh, then reminds us to call if we need anything, anything at all.

  “I still can’t believe people actually live like this,” I say after the woman is gone. I look around the plane’s cabin again. The recliner sized, creamy soft leather chairs, the mahogany wood.

  He squeezes my fingers. “Better than coach any day,” he agrees. “Captain’s turned off the seatbelt sign. Ready for a nap?”

  Last night, Link had given me a tour of the jet, but had stayed huddled with Tate the entire flight. I’d slept the entire time and when I woke, Link and Tate were still strategizing and had strategized most of the night. I hadn’t seen either of them until this morning.

  Following Link from our seats, I still can’t believe that any jet is big enough for a tour that would take longer than five seconds. When Link mentioned that we were taking his father’s private jet, I imagined something much smaller. But, like everything the Duffy’s seem to own, it’s oversized and overdone.

  The best part of the jet is that I can stand and don’t have to worry about bumping my head, like I’ve done on every other flight I’ve ever taken. I look around again and smile at a very tired Tate, who’s already kicked back in his seat, a newspaper over his face, snoring softly. He said he hadn’t slept for several days and planned to use the three-hour flight for some quick shuteye.

  Two more of his men are with us, having joined us from the Salt Lake office. One, a very
accounting looking type named Deakins is pounding away at a laptop while the other is reading what looks to be an inch thick sheaf of paper. They both look up and nod respectably as we pass.

  As we walk past the small kitchen area, all I can do is shake my head. Really? They need an espresso machine?

  Leading me down a short hallway, we walk past two full bathrooms and I shake my head again. A Jacuzzi on a jet?

  “And my favorite room.” He opens the door and I still can’t believe the size of the bedroom. He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Ever heard of the mile high club?”

  I lick my lower lip and watch his eyes follow the motion. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

  He cocks his head to the side and leans against the door jam. “Are you a member?”

  I run a finger up the buttons of his shirt. “Not yet. Are you?”

  He grins and I want to bite that dimple off his face. Instead, I press my finger in its indention and we stand there, looking at each other. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I say casually, answering my own question and take a step closer to him, pressing him against the wood of the door. “And I’ll take that as a challenge. Let’s see if we can make my initiation into your club, uh, memorable.”

  He grabs my wrist and pulls me against him, his eyes flaring with desire, his face telling me how much he wants me. He pushes me into the room, forcing me to walk backwards until the back of my legs hit the bed. Then I’m tumbling on the silky duvet and he’s climbing on top of me, pressing me into its softness.

  “When your shoulder completely heals, I want to tie you up.” He circles my left wrist with his hand, holding it over my head before linking our fingers together. “I want to spank your sweet ass until it’s red. Spank your sweet pussy.” He pushes my legs apart with his knee and pulls the dress I bought this morning up to my waist. He brings his hand down hard against my very center. I arch into the pain. The pleasure. I arch into the hand that remains there, caressing me through my panties. “I’ll make you burn for me, then soothe the heat with my mouth.” He lowers his head and traces my bottom lip with his tongue, his hand continuing to stroke me through the silk. “Do you want that too?”