Bodie’s hands come to my head, cradling me softly. “Slow down.”
I can’t talk with a mouth full of his gorgeous cock, so I give a short shake to my head before I suck him in extra deep.
“Fuck,” he mutters, lifting his hips again to push the tip into my throat. I swallow, feeling myself contract around him, and he gives a tiny bark of surprise.
Before I can even acknowledge the triumph of making him feel amazing with that little trick, he’s pushing me off his cock and my mouth is empty.
“What the hell—”
My words are cut off as I’m somehow lifted and spun around, landing on my hands and knees on the couch. Bodie roughly pushes my dress over my ass, jerks the crotch of my panties aside so the elastic bites into my skin, and presses two fingers into me.
My back dips in a deep arch, and I groan from the invasion. It’s perfect.
“Wet for me, babe,” he murmurs. He settles just one knee down into the cushion behind me, his other leg stretched out and foot planted on the floor. His fingers are gone, and then the fat, thick head of his cock is pushing into me.
My eyes flutter closed, but spring open in shock and utter fulfillment as he thrusts deep into me and then sets a fast pace. When the haze of pleasure clears, I realize we’re facing directly at Kynan, who is watching us while he plays poker.
Dropping my gaze down to the velvet beneath me, I hide the slight smile that comes to my mouth. I don’t even have to look over my shoulder at Bodie while he fucks me doggie style. I can guarantee he’s staking his territory to Kynan whether I’m currently fucking him or not. I suspect he’d be staring down anyone in the Jameson Group if they were here right now, letting everyone know that my cunt is his.
Bodie’s hands circle my waist, pulling me against him as he rides me.
Rides me hard and fast. My orgasm bursts outward in a glorious shower of pleasure that ripples through my body. I cry out from the perfect feeling, tiny shudders dancing up my spine when Bodie slams deep and groans out his release inside of me.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispers as he starts to move again, tiny thrusts to prolong the tremors of a fading orgasm.
My head lifts, and I look at Kynan. He’s got his head bowed over his cards, but there’s no mistaking the amused smile on his face.
I twist my neck, looking at Bodie, who is grinning at me triumphantly.
“Proud of yourself?” I ask with a smirk.
“Yup,” he says, smoothing his hand over my ass. He squeezes and then pulls out. “Let me catch my breath, and then I want to go fuck in The Waterfall Room.”
“The Waterfall Room?” My interest is definitely piqued.
Bodie gently sets the crotch of my panties to right and lowers my dress over my ass. I rise from the couch and turn to face him.
With a hand to the back of my neck, he bends down to give me a kiss. It’s our first of the evening. When he pulls back, his eyes are dancing with wickedness. “I want to fuck your tits under the waterfall. Then your mouth. Want to feel that little throat thing you did on me again.”
“Dirty man,” I murmur appreciatively. I hope it doesn’t take him long to recharge because I’m ready to go again.
Right now.
I know my hormones are out of whack, and I’m definitely hornier than normal. The thing is, I really don’t know if it’s the hormones or Bodie, because I only feel this way when I’m in proximity to him.
Strange.
Bodie’s eyes slide past me to Kynan, and he gives a little wink and nod of his head. I don’t even bother to look at Kynan because I already know the expression that will be on his face.
Amused.
He’ll definitely be amused.
CHAPTER 11
Bodie
Someone pushes a beer in my hand as I make my way through the crowd. I turn to see Hannah Miles standing next to a cooler filled with ice and long necks.
“Thanks, Hannah banana,” I say with a grin. “Where’s Steven?”
She rolls her eyes. “At the casino. Where else?”
My smile turns sympathetic. Hannah’s a woman who doesn’t get much satisfaction at home. Much like Rachel, she’s married to her job. The difference between the two women is Hannah does it for financial security to support her family and her husband’s gambling habits. Rachel does it because she loves it.
“Bodie,” someone calls from across the crowd. I look up and glance around, locating Cage standing near the door that leads onto Kynan’s back patio.
He’s throwing a sort of “employee appreciation” party which he does periodically. Our crew at Jameson functions a lot like a family. By the nature of our work, we have to have the utmost respect and trust in each other. That doesn’t mean we have to all like each other personally, but we do have to have enough of a bond that we can depend on each other when the going gets tough. Kynan likes to foster that by bringing us together as a group every so often.
It’s nothing fancy. Usually just beer and burgers at his house, but it is a good way for us to relax and connect with each other. Add in employee spouses or partners, and there are easily a hundred people here today. That’s not even counting everyone since some teams are out on missions.
Winding my way over to Cage, I find him talking to Locke and Benji.
“What’s up?” I say as I reach the guys.
“Not much,” Locke says in return. “Are you geared up for next week?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say as I twist the cap off my beer and pocket it. Truth be told, I’m ready for a little adventure.
Next week, a team of seven—myself and Rachel included—are headed to Singapore where we’ll provide temporary security for a diesel tanker traveling through the Strait of Malacca. Somali piracy is so yesterday. Today’s new and improved pirate targets diesel-laden cargo ships while they travel through choke points. Rather than take the crew of a ship hostage for ransom, they merely overpower and subdue so they can siphon off the gas, which fetches upward of half a million dollars on the black market for one good score. Merchant ships have taken to hiring private security groups to escort them through the choke points. We’ll fly into Singapore, board the ship, and travel with it through the strait to ensure its safety.
“So,” Benji drawls in a lowered voice after he steps in closer to me. “Is it true? Hart’s pregnant? We’ve asked Cage, but he’s playing all stupid.”
I can’t help but bristle against his nosiness, even though I know the record needs to be set straight. I’m sure Rachel’s little meltdown and admission in the locker room that’s she’s pregnant has made all the rounds, and every single person in this house knows about it.
But that’s Rachel’s story to tell how she sees fit. I’ve only told Cage—and I let Rachel know I did—and that’s the way I’m keeping it.
Before I can even brush Benji off, Locke elbows him in the ribs and nods at something behind me. “Ask her yourself.”
I turn around to see Rachel talking to Hannah, clutching a bottle of water in her hands. She’s got her hair pulled back in that short ponytail, which is nothing but about two inches of hair hanging out the end. Locks have fallen loose and frame her pretty face, making her look young and fresh. She’s wearing a pair of frayed denim shorts, a loose tank top, and flat sandals. She’s dressed the part for a late spring cookout.
As if she can sense my stare, she turns slightly away from Hannah and locks her eyes with mine. Even though we’ve spent every night together since that amazing one at The Wicked Horse almost a week ago, I can’t really say we’re dating. Otherwise, we would have come to the cookout together.
Instead, I woke up in my bed this morning with her mouth on my cock. The woman loves to suck my dick, and I love her doing it. I let her this time, barely controlling myself from pouncing and fucking her. She swallowed me down when I came and then gave me a hard kiss before she rolled out of bed. I had thought briefly about asking her if she wanted to ride together today, but I hadn’t.
&nbs
p; I knew the answer would be “no”.
Rachel has set the boundaries. We can stay the night at each other’s house or we can fuck in The Wicked Horse. We haven’t been back to the club since the night I staked my claim on her while Kynan watched me fuck her. That was awesome in and of itself, and I’m sure we’ll go back. It’s just that each night this week, she’s shown up at my house a little after dinner and I gladly let her in.
Rachel turns and says something else to Hannah, but then she’s heading my way. Her eyes flit from me to Cage to Locke to Benji, then back to me again by the time she reaches us.
“What’s up?” she asks, the same casual question Locke asked me when I walked up.
No one says a word. Benji and Locke just stare at her, hoping perhaps she’ll blurt out the details of what’s going on with her. Cage sips his beer, watching with amusement.
I save the awkwardness by saying, “I just got here. Haven’t even seen Kynan yet.”
“He’s probably out manning the grill,” she surmises as she takes a sip of her bottled water. Benji and Locke watch her intently, as if the fact she’s drinking water confirms she’s knocked up.
Finally, Benji gets up the nerve to ask, “Want a beer, Hart? I’ll go get you one.”
“No thanks,” she says with a pleasant smile, but I can tell by the tone in her voice she knows damn well why the question was asked.
“Wine?” Locke asks, adding, “There’s red and white.”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
She turns her attention to me. “Is it going to be like this all day?”
“Probably,” I say with a sympathetic wince. Cage snickers.
Rachel shoves her water bottle at me, and I almost bobble my beer making a grab for it. She puts a hand to my shoulder and uses me for leverage to climb on a chair I’m standing next to. Putting her fingers in her mouth, she lets fly a piercing shriek of a whistle, which cuts through all the chatter.
Total silence and all eyes are on Rachel.
“Thank you for your attention,” she calls to the people standing around Kynan’s living room, which spills into the kitchen. A few people come wandering in from the patio to check out what’s going on. “As I’m sure you all have heard the gossip by now, I wanted to confirm that I am indeed pregnant. Eight weeks today as a matter of fact. So, you can all stop whispering about it and prodding me with sly questions that aren’t all that sly. Is that clear?”
No one says a word.
“Good. A few other things you need to know. I have the doctor’s clearance to continue to work for now. If any of you have an issue with me being pregnant, come talk to me privately. More importantly, because I know this is also being gossiped about… the baby is Bodie’s. It was not planned, but we’re dealing with it the best we can. Now, if no one has any questions, I’m fucking starved. Eating for two and all that. I’ll be out near the grill getting a hamburger or four.”
A smatter of laughs can be heard, but I’m just staring at Rachel in utter disbelief. I mean… good for her for taking the bull by the horns, but I wasn’t expecting it.
Even more surprising is that her hands come to my shoulders before she steps off the chair. She looks me dead in the eye and asks, “Was that okay? I probably should have discussed that with you first.”
“It was fine,” I manage to say.
“Good,” she says with a satisfied smile, and then I nearly fall over when she presses her mouth to mine. When she pulls back, she jumps off the chair and says, “I’m going to get something to eat. Want me to bring you something?”
I thrust my beer at Cage, who takes it without comment. Sweeping my hand toward the patio door, I tell her, “I’ll come with you.”
I mean… after that little public display of affection while everyone watched, why would I want to hang out with these dudes? I’d rather be by Rachel’s side any day.
When we step out onto the patio, I immediately see Kynan manning the grill. He’s got on a ridiculous apron that says, “May I Suggest the Sausage?” and has a hand with the finger pointed down toward his dick.
We walk that way. While I’m not touching Rachel in any way, many are looking at us speculatively. The people out here on the patio hadn’t heard her big announcement, although I’m sure the news will make its way around quickly. Those who are looking now are the ones who saw me hugging her after she had her meltdown, and they are all wondering what the fuck is going on between us.
“I got burgers, brats, and hot dogs,” Kynan says when we reach him. He waggles his eyebrows and points at his apron. “But the sausage is to die for.”
Rachel rolls her eyes, and I’m pleased his childish reference to his dick doesn’t bother me, knowing that said dick has touched Rachel. She said it was in the past. Several years in the past as a matter of fact.
Besides, she let me fuck her at the club right in front of Kynan, and I’m smart enough to know that was her way of proving to me that she was only into me.
Rachel turns to the long table set up beside the grill that has plates and toppings for the burgers, along with bowls of chips and various salads. She fixes herself a hamburger bun with globs of mustard. She then reaches into the bowl of potato chips and grabs a handful, crunching them down on top of the mustard-covered bun.
“That’s interesting,” I tease.
“Don’t even start on me,” she mutters as she picks up the plate and holds it out toward Kynan to put a burger on. “It’s a craving thing apparently.”
“Apparently,” I say with a chuckle.
Kynan’s eyes are shining with laughter, but I’m sure he likes his sausage where it is, so he silently scoops a burger off the grill with his spatula and slides it sizzling onto the pile of chips resting on the bun.
She licks her lower lip in anticipation, but as soon as she reaches to put the top of the bun on, she goes dead still. Her face pales, and she inhales sharply through her nose, which crinkles in distaste as soon as she does it. She shoves the plate so hard back at Kynan that it tips over and the mustard-soaked bun, burger, and chips splat against his chest.
“What the fuck?” Kynan growls as he looks down at his torso, but Rachel is slapping her hand over her mouth and reeling away. She stumbles several feet toward the edge of the patio, bends over with her arms crossing her stomach, and vomits into his landscaping right on top of a prickly cactus.
Without thought, I rush to Rachel’s side and lay my hand on her lower back. She gags and retches for a few moments before she finally straightens up, rubbing at the side of her mouth with the heel of her hand.
“Okay, that was unexpected,” she pants slightly, sucking in some fresh air.
“Has that happened before?” I ask, slightly worried.
She shakes her head and takes the bottle of water I’d been holding for her from my hand. After she takes a tentative sip, she looks at me. “First time, but I’ve been wondering if it would hit me. Doc said it can start at around six weeks.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her almost helplessly and with a huge bolt of guilt that she has to go through this. “That just sucks.”
“It’s fine,” she says with a brave smile. She reaches into her front pocket and pulls out her car keys. “But I think I’m going to run out to my car and get some gum. I wouldn’t want to be talking to anyone with vomit breath today.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” I offer.
Her smile stays in place, but her eyes flash with warning. Her words are slow and deliberate. “I’m fine, Bodie. It’s just some minor morning sickness. I feel better already.”
I stare at her dubiously. Her face is tinged green, I think.
Not sure.
“Well, let me run out to your car for you,” I say as I extend my hand for her keys. “I’ll get your gum.”
Rachel doesn’t hand me her keys. Instead, she steps closer to me. Her voice is low, so no one can hear. “Bodie… I’m fine. I’m also perfectly able to walk to my car
and back. Don’t treat me like I’m fragile.”
And then I understand.
Rachel is a tough cookie, for sure. I get that part. But more importantly, we are standing in front of all her coworkers, some of whom she’ll be on a mission with next week. She can’t show any weakness at all, in any form.
Giving her an understanding nod, I step back from her. I sweep my hand toward the patio door. “Go get your gum.”
She smiles at me gratefully and moves past me. My hand flies out and slaps her on the ass and not gently, either. She yelps and tucks her butt under, shuffling quickly away from me. Looking over her shoulder, she levels a heated glare my way.
I just grin in return. “Not going to treat you fragilely, and don’t bother looking at me like that. I happen to know you like having your ass slapped.”
And Jesus… fucking adorable.
Pink stains Rachel’s cheeks.
She spins away and trots through the door, and I know my laugh follows her all the way.
CHAPTER 12
Rachel
Hard copies of schematics of the diesel tanker are spread across the huge conference room table. There’s a projected image on the screen that is suspended mechanically from the ceiling. It’s got several pictures of men—all headshots—laid out in rows. It’s the main crew of the tanker. Kynan stands at the screen going over their bios, arms crossed as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. He’s in his element, having effortlessly stepped to the helm of The Jameson Group after its founder, Jerico Jameson, retired to run The Wicked Horse full time.
Doesn’t mean that Jerico is fully out of the game, though. He’s sitting at the other end of the conference table, scribbling notes on a legal pad while Kynan talks. Jerico will often come into our intel and planning sessions as a consultant. He doesn’t get paid to throw in his expertise and advice, but does so only because he still loves this company even if he’s not running it anymore.
We leave in two days to escort the tanker through the Strait of Malacca, an incredibly important trade route between China and India. A quarter of the world’s seaborne oil travels through the strait and thus makes it a very tempting target for pirates. There will be almost twenty-four hours of commercial travel to Singapore, four days on the tanker where we’ll work in three-to-four men, twelve-hour shifts patrolling and guarding the ship with fifty-caliber mounted machine guns. All in all, we should be back to the States within a week if all goes well.
Wicked Choice (The Wicked Horse Vegas #4) Page 9