Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Sarina (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Brenda Rothert

  “Cancer, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he raised you after your parents passed away in a car accident?”

  She nods. “Guess you already know my story. It must have been in my file.”

  “Those are just facts, though. They don’t tell me who you are, or who your uncle was.”

  She walks to one side of the bed and waves at the other. “Come on. I’ll help you move this.”

  “I’ve got it,” I tell her, pushing the dark wood sleigh bed toward the fireplace by the headboard. It was my parents’ one splurge—a carved wood frame that probably doesn’t quite fit in with this rustic, bare bones cabin. But it was theirs, so I don’t give a shit whether it fits or not.

  “Uncle Owen was quiet, like me,” Sarina says softly. “He loved swing music and talk radio and Dr. Pepper. And animals. He donated money to help build an animal shelter. He was passionate about science. I come by my nerdiness honestly.” She laughs softly. “We discussed National Geographic articles and research journal findings over dinner at night.”

  “Did you always want to follow in his footsteps and become a scientist?”

  She sits down on the edge of the bed, which is now closer to the fireplace. I sit down next to her.

  “It was just a couple months after moving in with Uncle Owen that I’d decided,” she says. “He was my dad’s older brother, and he told me stories about the science experiments they did as kids. Then I started helping him at the lab during my summer break from school, and I loved it.”

  “Were you close to your parents?”

  She nods and looks at the floor. “It was devastating when they died. Uncle Owen had never married or had children, and he said we would find our way together. He was awkward in his own sweet, funny way. When I moved in, he’d bought me tampons and pads in every brand and absorbency sold at the local grocery store.” She laughs at the memory. “And he wasn’t much of a cook. We ate lots of cereal. But he loved me and he did his best.”

  I can tell from the raw emotion in her voice that the pain of her uncle’s loss is still fresh.

  “It took a long time for me to be able to think about my dad after he died and remember the good times,” I say. “At first I could only think about his death.”

  “How did he die?” She reaches over and takes my hand.

  I clear my throat. “A grenade was thrown at his team and he jumped on top of it to save the others.”

  “Wow.” Her tone is awed. “That’s incredibly brave.”

  “I’m proud to be his son. Planned on spending my whole career as a SEAL living up to his legacy.”

  “You retired young, though.”

  I shrug. “I needed to make more money. My sister was going through some stuff.”

  “Your dad would have been proud of your decision, I’m sure.”

  “I think so. Family was everything to him.” I bring her hand up to my mouth and press a kiss against her palm. “Better get some sleep, Spitfire. We’ve got rodents coming in the morning for you to poison.”

  She takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “Let’s hope I can figure out the formula.”

  “You did it once, you’ll do it again.”

  “Yeah, but…the first time I just got lucky and stumbled upon it.”

  “You’ve got a hot lab assistant this time, though.”

  She laughs at that. “I think that’ll make all the difference.”

  I get up from the bed and look down at her. She’s beautiful, her hair loose around her shoulders and her hazel eyes gazing up at me through thick, dark lashes. I’ve got iron willpower for resisting her.

  “Night, Sarina,” I say softly.

  “Goodnight, Ford.”

  She lies down and covers up while I head for my old, saggy couch and bury myself under a couple thick blankets. Before closing my eyes, I make sure I have a gun within arm’s reach on the coffee table.

  The wind is howling through the trees outside. I’m gonna have a long, cold night alone on this couch. Especially since the woman I’m physically aching for is just a few feet away.

  Chapter 11

  Sarina

  “Okay, ready,” I say, leaning down to make a note on the legal pad sitting on the coffee table.

  Ford reaches into a glass cage on the floor and takes out a mouse, cupping it in his gloved hands. He brings it over and I inject it, eliciting the usual squeals.

  “Good luck, buddy,” he mutters to the mouse, putting it back in its cage and replacing the top.

  It’s our third day working together, and Ford is surprisingly good at helping me. He spent the first day assembling twenty glass cages and giving individual mice a home in each one. We started injecting them yesterday, and this morning he took all the dead mice out to our waste receptacle about a quarter of a mile down the road from the cabin.

  The dead mice require special disposal, but we didn’t want them anywhere near the cabin because of the smell.

  Since our kiss the other night, Ford hasn’t touched me. I imagine the rodents, my lab goggles and my constant chatter about variables has shown him that I really am the nerdy scientist I claim to be.

  It’s difficult for me to fall asleep at night knowing he’s so close. His “long and hard” comment has kept me hot and bothered when I’m in bed alone, wishing he’d walk over and slide in beside me.

  “What next, boss?” he asks.

  “How are you at shoulder rubs?”

  “Pretty damn good. Lemme wash my hands first.”

  I stretch my arms above my head and sigh. “That would be amazing, thank you.”

  He is good at shoulder rubs. Ford presses his hands into all the right places, working his magic on my shoulders and my neck.

  “That feels so good,” I say as he massages my neck all the way up to my hairline.

  “You want me to do your back, too?” His warm breath tickles my ear and I shiver with excitement.

  “Yes.” My body tenses suddenly and I turn to face him. “Wait. Do I smell like mice? Or chemicals?”

  “All I smell is your shampoo.”

  I relax. “I’ve never had a massage. It feels amazing.”

  “Go lie down on the bed. On your stomach.”

  Heat swirls through my core as I walk over to the bed, kick off my shoes, and lie down. I hear his heavy footsteps, followed by the sound of steel on wood, which must mean he put a gun on the nightstand. Then he kicks off his work boots and I feel his warm presence on top of me.

  I can tell he’s on his knees, straddling my hips, and my body is tingling all over with desire. He works my T-shirt all the way up to my shoulders and then unsnaps my bra strap.

  The massage is the next best thing to an orgasm. His hands are powerful and gentle at the same time, moving over every inch of my skin and relaxing every muscle.

  My arms are wrapped around a pillow, and I moan into it when he hits a spot that feels particularly good. I can feel the weight of his erection against my ass, reassuring me that seeing me at work doesn’t seem to have dampened his enthusiasm for me.

  I’m feeling bolder than usual, so I push my hips against the bed and wiggle my ass against him. He sucks in a sharp breath before letting out a deep hum of amusement.

  “You like the way my dick feels against your ass, huh?”

  “Yes,” I admit, glad my face is buried in the pillow as my cheeks heat.

  “I like it, too, baby. I’d love nothing more than to pull these jeans down and fuck you just like this.”

  My moan comes out as a whimper. “God, I want you so much, Ford.”

  He exhales hard. I push myself up onto my elbows and he eases himself off me, lying down on the bed with his arms behind his head.

  “You test my willpower every second of the day, Sarina.”

  I sit up and pull my shirt over my head, then slide my bra straps down my shoulders, leaving myself totally bare from the waist up.

  “Ah, fuck,” he says under his breath.

  “You
want me to put them back on?”

  “Hell no.” He reaches for my hips and pulls me onto his lap.

  I feel a powerful surge of arousal when his erection presses against me. His dark gaze wanders the same slow path as his hands, from my waist up to my round, full breasts.

  “I knew you’d be perfect,” he says, brushing his thumb over one nipple. It stiffens at his touch and then he circles it with the tip of his index finger.

  It’s been so long since a man has touched me, and I’ve never been touched like this. Chad squeezed my boobs like they were stress balls. Ford’s fingertips create the most delicious sensations as he lightly touches my nipples and then pinches them until they sting with arousal.

  I suck in a breath as he cups my breasts gently. I can’t stop my hips from grinding against him.

  “Fuck yeah,” he says, wrapping his hands around my waist. “Someday you’ll ride my cock just like this, with your tits bouncing hard for me, won’t you?”

  I cry out as sensation takes over. This feels too good for any inhibitions and even though we both have pants on, it’s been so long that I’ll be able to get off just from this.

  “Don’t stop,” Ford says in a low tone. “Let me see you come, Sarina.”

  Right then, his phone rings and we both freeze.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he says. “Someone better be dead.”

  I slide off of him, my body still humming with arousal. He crosses the room and I take in the muscled definition of his back.

  “What?” he snaps into the phone.

  He’s listening, his gaze still fixed on me. I reach for my bra, planning to put it back on, and he shakes his head, telling me not to.

  God, he’s sexy. His erection is pressing against the fly of his pants. He strokes a hand over it, still looking into my eyes.

  “Yeah, it could’ve been a deer or something,” he says, sounding aggravated. After a pause, he says, “No, I’ll go look. Thanks for letting me know.”

  He hangs up the phone and puts it in his pocket, then says, “Worst timing ever. I set up an infrared security perimeter around the cabin and something just tripped the sensors. Since it takes a height of at least four feet to do that, I need to go check it out.”

  “Okay.” I quickly slip my bra and T-shirt back on.

  Ford hands me a shotgun. “You point this at the front door until I get back in. If anyone other than me walks through that door, shoot. I don’t care what they say.”

  I nod and take the heavy weapon, feeling uneasy about even touching it.

  Ford comes over and gives me a quick, soft kiss.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says. “Tell me what you’ll do if anyone but me comes through that door.”

  “Um…shoot. I’ll shoot them.”

  “Good.”

  As soon as the door closes, I point the gun at it, leaving my finger near the trigger but not on it.

  Less than five minutes ago, I was on the verge of an orgasm, and now I’m shaking with fear. Scientist-slash-government-asset life is not for me.

  I have enough self-preservation instinct to pull the trigger, but I’m relieved when Ford walks back into the cabin ten minutes later and takes the gun from me.

  “Everything’s fine,” he says.

  But then, he immediately loads four more guns and pulls up security camera footage of the cabin’s exterior. I’m not feeling very reassured anymore.

  Chapter 12

  Ford

  My eyelids feel like lead. It’s all I can do to focus on the conversation I’m having with Matt. I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I spent today reviewing security footage and monitoring the woods around the cabin for activity.

  “I think it was just a deer,” Matt says, his tone weary. “Or a big ass possum or something.”

  “You’re sure no one could have leaked our location?”

  “No one even knows your location. I don’t even know it. I could have your phone pinged if I needed to know, but I haven’t.”

  I’ve been sitting in the woods outside the cabin watching the front door for more than an hour now, and I’m stiff. I stretch my back and reach into the bag of energy gummies in my pocket, popping one into my mouth.

  “I want you to monitor the main road to this place by satellite, but I don’t want to give up the location by email.”

  “No, don’t,” Matt says. “Don’t even say it over the phone.”

  “If I get a gut feeling about it, we’ll move to a new location.”

  “Do you need me to send backup? A couple agents to relieve you at night? You sound tired, man.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You know, McKenna thinks you should just bring Sarina Ross to Quantico. We’ve got research facilities here, or we could give her secure transport to the CDC. She’d have all their resources at her disposal.”

  “No. The fewer people who know where she is, the better. I still suspect the CDC of leaking information about her research. They were the only ones she told about it.”

  Matt grunts skeptically. “So she says. Women talk, Ford.”

  “She’s working on something huge here, you asswipe. Something bigger than you’ll ever contribute to the world. Show some respect.”

  “Fine,” he says, his tone aggravated. “Maybe you could show me the respect of not referring to me as asswipe.”

  “Nah. If you don’t like it, hire someone else next time.”

  He sighs with exasperation, but says nothing.

  “I’ll be in touch,” I say, pressing my phone screen to end the call.

  I can’t stand bureaucratic suits that judge from the sidelines. Matt’s one of those. All talk, but would he ever go undercover in a prison. No weapon or backup? Hell no. He’d shit his drawers by the end of the first day.

  It’s late afternoon, time to pack it in for the day. When I walk into the cabin, Sarina is sitting on the floor and writing on a notepad.

  “Need any help?” I ask, locking the door and taking off my stocking cap.

  “No thanks.” She writes for a few more seconds and then looks up at me. “I was just finishing up and then I was going to build up the fire to get it warm in here before you came in.”

  “I’ll do that.” I take off my lined canvas coat and hang it on a hook by the door. “Are you cooking dinner?”

  She smiles. “Is that a hint?”

  “Kind of. That bologna sandwich I had for lunch was pretty sad.”

  “How about omelets and toast?” She gets up from the floor and pushes her glasses up on her nose.

  “That sounds great.”

  I almost tell her what Matt said about taking her to Quantico or the CDC. But I stop myself, instead crossing the room to focus on the fire.

  Selfish as it is, I don’t want to risk her wanting to leave. She’d probably prefer a place with a real lab to work in. Hell, a place with heat and a table she could sit at to write would be a step up from the cabin.

  I wish we were here under different circumstances. If she wasn’t in danger and I wasn’t focused on protecting her, we could be spending most of our time in bed.

  Our current setup isn’t everything I’d like it to be, but it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. I never thought being domesticated would feel this way. It’s good. More than good, actually. I love the anticipation on Sarina’s face when she’s waiting for me to taste the first bite of the dinners she makes. It matters to her that I like what she cooks.

  And it matters to me that she’s warm, and comfortable, and above all, safe. I’m not ready to give up my position as her protector. Not even close.

  Chapter 13

  Sarina

  Sunlight is visible through the small cracks in the cabin’s interior shutters, but my internal clock tells me it’s still early. I pull the covers around my shoulders and decide to sleep another hour.

  But a scratching sound catches my attention. I know that sound—it’s a mouse foraging. And although it could be a mouse from the woods on the
loose in the cabin, I have a gut feeling it’s not.

  Throwing the covers aside, I jump out of bed and run to the glass cages lined up next to the coffee table. I scan the insides of the cages quickly.

  Dead mouse, dead mouse, dead mouse…live mouse.

  My heart beats double time as I check the tag on the cage and look for one at the end of the row with the same tag. The mouse in that cage is also alive.

  “Everything okay?” Ford asks, leaning forward on the couch. He has a shotgun in his lap and dark circles under his eyes.

  “Better than okay.” I stand up, warm tears building in my eyes. “We did it.”

  His eyes widen. Ford moves the gun from his lap and stands up.

  “That’s what the live mice mean?”

  I nod with excitement. “This time I doubled my test subjects, so that if two survived the same formula, I’d know it wasn’t a fluke.”

  “Sarina…” He pulls me into his arms and holds me close. “You did it. This was all you.”

  “You helped,” I say softly. “More than you know.”

  “We should celebrate.” Ford pulls back and looks down at me, his brow furrowed. “I wish we had something better than orange juice to toast with.”

  “Orange juice is perfect. I mean, like literally perfect. Did you know it inhibits insulin resistance and protects cells from mutation?”

  “I didn’t, no.”

  I roll my eyes and look away. “Sorry. Nerd alert.”

  “Sarina.” Ford waits until I look at him. “You are not a nerd. You’re intelligent and beautiful, and I like that.”

  I smile up at him. “I’d ask you to kiss me, but I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I back up a few steps. “Just let me…real quick.”

  As I head for the bathroom, I hear him following me.