Ride The Mustang (SEALs Going Hot)

by Desiree Holt

  Shit, shit, shit. He was such a fuckup.

  By the time they landed back at the base, he was more confused than ever and not liking it one damn bit.

  “Drinks,” Iceman said as they jogged across the tarmac. He looked at his watch. “In sixty. I’ll pick you up.”

  “I don’t think—” Mustang began.

  “Yeah, that seems to be your biggest problem. Take a good shower. You stink after three days in the jungle.”

  “Yeah, you smell like roses, too. And I’m not interested in drinks if they come with conversation.”

  “Too bad. See you in sixty.” Iceman turned to head toward his own quarters, leaving Mustang standing there, frustrated.

  He was still exasperated when Iceman pulled up for him an hour later. He had little to say on the ride into town and even less when his friend led him into a quiet little bar and a corner booth. When frosted glasses of ice cold beer sat in front of each of them, Iceman took a long swallow of his and leaned forward.

  “Okay. I never thought I’d see your attention drift on a training mission, and frankly, it scared the shit out of me. You have to remember, you aren’t out there alone. Let yourself get distracted, and it can put others in danger.”

  “I know, I know.” He did, and it had pissed him off. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Let’s hope not. But you need to open up about what’s eating at you. I know the signs. So give. I don’t want to have to beat it out of you.”

  Mustang shrugged. “What’s to tell?”

  “What’s to tell?” He took another swallow of beer. “After locking your emotions up in a steel vault for years, you meet a really nice girl—hell, woman—and spend a lot of free time with her. The two of you look like you really enjoy each other, and you act like you’ve got a hot stick up your ass and can’t wait to pull it out. So like I said, give.”

  Mustang sighed. He wasn’t good at this stuff, especially since he didn’t have it sorted out in his own mind. “I think I’m in a mess here.”

  Iceman raised his eyebrows. “A mess? Did you say something wrong? Do something wrong? What?” He frowned. “You didn’t make a mess, did you? Diane will fucking kill me.”

  “Not yet.” Mustang lifted his drink and drained half the glass. “I just— She’s just—”

  Iceman snorted. “I’d laugh if you didn’t look like you were in so much pain.”

  “She’s not like anyone else I’ve been with,” he blurted out. God, didn’t he just sound like a girl? “She’s different. She’s—” He shrugged his shoulders, helplessly.

  “Nice. Sweet. Hot. Smart. Hot.” Iceman laughed. “And did I say hot?”

  “All that. And more.” Much more. Everything I want. I won’t even tell you the things I want to do to her. With her.

  “And classy,” his friend added. “Not that I wish to insult your other women, my man, but April definitely has class. And is in a class by herself.”

  “Yeah, and that’s the problem.” Mustang drained his glass and signaled the waitress for refills. He watched Iceman study his face.

  “Because she’s not as easy to walk away from, right?”

  Mustang nodded.

  “And maybe because this time you don’t want to. Am I right?” When Mustang didn’t say anything, he added, “There’s no law that says you have to.”

  Mustang shook his head. “I can’t do this. You know that. I should never have started with her in the first place.”

  “Because you’re afraid,” Iceman said slowly.

  “Because… Just because.”

  Iceman was quiet for a long moment. “We haven’t talked about this in a very long time, but I think we need to, because it’s got your head so fucked up.” He paused while the waitress set fresh drinks in front of them. “What happened with Viv was a freak accident. But accidents happen. You can’t shut off your heart and put ice around your life because of it. And you have to finally accept that it wasn’t your fault. I mean, Jesus, Mustang, you weren’t even there.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  He had been so in love with Viv Anderson, a connection he’d never thought to feel with another human being. Everything was so good for them. Including the sex, the games he liked that she embraced so quickly and enthusiastically. He still remembered their last conversation. He was about to deploy for a short mission, and she was going hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains with three girl friends on the weekend. Mustang loved to hike in his free time, and Viv had taken to it immediately. They spent a lot of weekends hiking and camping.

  As soon as he returned, he’d planned to take her out to the ranch for a visit. Get the Hendersons blessing. See how she liked ranch life, since he didn’t plan to spend forever in the SEALs. They were going to make plans for their wedding, something they both looked forward to.

  “Come back safe to me, cowboy,” she whispered to him their last night together.

  When he kissed her goodbye, he hadn’t expected that would be the last time he’d see her alive.

  Then it all went to shit. The mission took longer than expected, plus he was out of contact for forty-eight hours. When the chopper came to exfiltrate his team, his commanding officer was on board with news that he could barely assimilate. Viv had fallen in a hiking accident and broken her neck. She died instantly.

  He was more than grateful for Iceman, who got him through that terrible time, and for the support of his friends. He couldn’t stop blaming himself for not being there.

  “She died instantly,” Iceman repeated over and over. “What could you have done?”

  “If I’d never got her interested in it, she wouldn’t have been out there in danger.”

  “Jesus, man,” Iceman told him. “She could have gotten hit by a car. This is not your fault.”

  But even after all these years, he hadn’t been able to get that out of his head. And his heart. His damn heart had been broken into so many pieces he knew it would never be put back together again. So he’d completely changed the way he dealt with life. He promised himself never to let his heart open to anyone ever again. The pain of loss was just too great to bear. And the guilt. Misplaced or not, what did he do with it?

  “Mustang?” Iceman’s voice jerked him back to the present.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you think it’s time to finally get past this?” he sighed. “Let me ask you something. SEALs live a life full of danger. On any given mission any one of us could not come back alive. Did Viv shy away from you because of that? Did she hold back her heart so if you died she wouldn’t have to grieve?”

  “No, but—”

  “Would she have wanted you to dishonor the memory of what the two of you had by shutting yourself off from any meaningful relationship ever again?” He raked his hand over his head. “Oh, Jesus, listen to me, talking about relationships. Diane would laugh her ass off.”

  Mustang stared at the half empty glass of beer.

  “Mustang?”

  “I hear you. I do. But… For one thing, I’ve been this way for so long, I don’t know if I can change.”

  “You can do anything you want to.”

  Mustang drained the rest of the beer. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t know if I want to. Do I really feel something for April? Something strong? Okay, yeah. But so what? Shit, Iceman. I don’t know if I’m willing to open myself up to the chance of loss again. That fear is always there.”

  Even if I do go to sleep at night with images of her intricately bound in the blue silk ropes I have, her ass red from my hand or a paddle, her cunt ripe and wet for me.

  “Don’t think I’m being harsh, but other people suffer losses like this,” his friend pointed out. “They get past it.”

  “Then they’re better men than I am.”

  “Fine.” Iceman leaned back in the booth. “I just hate to see you screw up something so good in your life.”

  “Then we’d better get out of here so I can do a better job of cleaning up. I’m due at April’s at s
even thirty.”

  Iceman lifted a brow. “Oh? Doesn’t sound to me much like you’re pulling away.”

  Or to me, either. I am so fucked.

  “None of your business.” He tossed some money on the table. “And I’m done talking about it.”

  Because all the talking in the world wasn’t going to do him any good. If he walked away now, he wouldn’t have to worry about losing her later. His heart and his body were doing battle, and he was afraid he’d be the loser.

  Chapter Five

  “The platoon is due back today,” Diane commented. “And you haven’t said one word about the last time you and Mustang were together, how it went, what happened.” She looked across the table. “So how did it go?”

  After managing to avoid this conversation with her friend for three days, she’d finally given in when Diane practically dragged her out of the office for lunch. She was still confused about Fletch’s feelings for her, and she wasn’t even sure anything had been resolved that night. If anything, she got the feeling he was more conflicted than ever.

  “Um, it went good. Yes, good.” She drizzled dressing onto her salad. “Definitely good.”

  Certainly, if she counted the off the charts sex they’d had. When she had made up her mind to push Fletch, to find out what was holding him back, she had never imagined he would introduce her to the very erotic world of D/s. Or that she would be aroused by the things he did as much as she was. Sitting had been somewhat uneasy the next day, but the discomfort also served to remind her of the erotic trip he’d taken her on. She could hardly wait for the next time they were together.

  Diane laughed. “Good? That tells me nothing. Did you talk to him? Like you planned to?”

  April stabbed at a chunk of cheese in her salad, forked it into her mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. Talk? Yes, they had talked. But the topic of discussion had certainly taken a sharp turn in the road. She just wasn’t sure how to explain it to her friend.

  She swallowed her food. “Yes. We had a good conversation.”

  Diane gave her a hard look. “That’s it? The whole thing? You had a good conversation? Honey, I want details.”

  April bowed her head and stared at her plate as she felt the heat creeping up her cheeks.

  “Oh, my god.” Diane set her fork down. “Are you blushing? Really? What on earth did you discuss?”

  She still couldn’t look at Diane. “Let’s just say everything between the sheets is a whole lot better. I don’t feel the wall now.”

  “Okay, so I guess I’m not getting any details about the bedroom, which is fine. Not.” She giggled. “But you sound as if all the issues still haven’t been resolved.”

  April sighed and sat back in her chair. “No, I don’t think they have. Remember when I said I felt there was something between us but he was holding back?”

  Diane nodded.

  “Well, I had the strangest feeling when he showed up the other night that he was planning to tell me we would stop seeing each other. I sidetracked him in the bedroom, but whatever’s bothering him, I think it’s still there.”

  “And it’s hard to let go of it,” Diane guessed.

  “Yes.” April fiddled with her water glass. “Maybe I can convince myself to ride the sex train and get off when it stops.”

  Diane nearly choked on the water she was drinking. “April, is that you across from me? Holy crap, girl. That is so not like you.” She lifted her napkin and fanned herself. “Wow.”

  “I know, I know. But I just don’t think I’m going to get more from him. And damn it, I’m not imagining this. I know he feels something for me, something he just doesn’t want to admit.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I have any advice I can give you. I love him as a friend, but he’s a tough one. If I could just get Charlie to let me in on what secret the man is hiding, maybe that would help.”

  April shook her head. “Charlie’s not going to break a promise, and I wouldn’t expect him to. Maybe this training mission they’re on will give Mustang some time to think about this. Anyway.” She smiled. “I plan to welcome him back with a fabulous dinner and incredible sex.”

  “Wait. Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to provide the spectacular sex?”

  April gave her an impish grin. “Yes. That, too.”

  She actually managed to leave work early, much to everyone’s astonishment. But she wanted everything to be perfect tonight. She wouldn’t push Fletch. Not for anything beyond the bedroom. At least, she’d gotten him to really open up there. The rest? She’d just have to do her damndest to make herself someone he couldn’t walk away from.

  And have a lot of patience while she was doing it.

  He wanted to take her out to dinner, but she loved cooking for him. Creating a special environment for the two of them. She still believed they had something special going between them. Really special. No matter how much he denied it to himself. If this gave him a hint of what he could have with her… Well, she could hope, but at least know she’d done whatever she could.

  ****

  When he rang the doorbell at exactly seven thirty, she took one last look at herself in the mirror, fluffed her hair with her fingertips, and opened the door.

  God! The sight of him always took her breath away. A soft collar shirt and khakis caressed the lines of his lean body, and dark eyes looked out at her from a warrior’s face. He was wearing those hand tooled Western boots again, the quintessential cowboy. Raw sex on the hoof. A frisson of excitement skated over her skin, her every pulse point throbbed in anticipation, and it seemed every one of her cells quivered in excitement. She raised an eyebrow at the small satchel he carried in one hand.

  He grinned. “Toys. For later.”

  “Oh?” Her heart rate tripled. “Are we going to play games?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Most definitely.”

  She did her best to be calm and relaxed during dinner. Tonight she’d made it very casual, steaks on the grill, which she had Mustang tend while she finished the potatoes and salad. They made idle conversation over dinner. He told her what little he could about the training exercise and the guys in his platoon. She talked about some work she was doing at the office. The conversation was easy and superficial, but the sexual tension in the room was so intense she could almost see it. More than once, when she looked up from her plate, she caught Mustang eying her with a look so hot it nearly singed her skin.

  “No dessert,” he said when she cleared the dinner dishes.

  “Oh, but I have éclairs from the bakery,” she protested.

  “Later.” He gave her a wolfish grin. “You’ll need to refresh your energy.”

  She had barely managed to get the dishes in the dishwasher before he crowded her against the counter. Bracketing her with his arms, he pressed his groin against her ass, his erection thick and hard beneath the fabric of his slacks. The pressure of it against her body made her instantly more liquid than she already was.

  “How’s that sweet bottom of yours tonight?” he asked, nipping at the lobe of one ear

  “It’s—it’s good,” she stammered. “Better than good. Fine, even.”

  He reached down and slid his hand beneath her short skirt, up along her thigh until he reached one cheek of her buttocks. The light pinch startled her, but it also made her nipples harden enough to cut glass.

  “Feels good to me, too.” His lust-roughened voice scraped along her nerves and sent a spike of heat through her.

  Not sure exactly how the rules of the game had changed since the other night, she let her instincts guide her and lifted her face to his, lips slightly parted. Then slowly, in the gesture she knew drove him crazy, she drew her tongue over her lower lip, moistening it.

  The wild horse bucked, thrusting his groin against her hard and pressing his lips to hers. His tongue swept in as if it owned the inside of her mouth, and the heat from his body flashed through her.

  He broke the kiss but his mouth still touched hers. “Tonight
I want to see you on your knees. I want to see you in intricate rope designs. And I want to heat up that sweet, sweet ass of yours again.”

  Her knees weakened at his words. If he hadn’t been pressed so hard against her, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand.

  Enjoy it while you can, April. At least you’ll have the memories.

  His hand slid around to her mound, one finger inching beneath the triangle of silk covering her to find her wet slit.

  “Soaked.” His voice rasped like a rough saw. “Damn, April. Have you been dreaming about me while I was gone?”

  “Yes.” She whispered out the word.

  “I think we should take this to the bedroom,” he growled, nipping her ear lobe again.

  When he scraped her clit lightly with a fingernail, shock waves of lust raced through her. “Yes,” she breathed. “I think we should.”

  He grabbed the satchel he’d brought with him, then lifted her in his arms and strode out of the kitchen.

  She’d left one lamp on in the bedroom, casting a golden glow on everything. When he set her down on her feet at the side of the bed, the light cast shadows on the harsh lines of his face and caught the gleam of fire in his eyes. God, she wanted to lick him all over. But obediently she stood and waited for instructions from him.

  One thing she had done while he was away was pull out the erotic romance novels she had and scour them for every BDSM scene she could remember. She also spent a lot of time on the Internet, amazed at the amount of information of the lifestyle that was available. The more she learned, the more fascinated she became. As she read, images of that night together kept flashing through her mind. It all left her in a high state of anticipation, one she was tempted to relieve herself. But she remembered Fletch’s commanding voice from their last time together: “Do not come until I tell you to.”