Call Sign: Thunder

by Livia Grant

  She was soaking wet. He'd avoided gawking at her naked body as best he could, but there was no avoiding the feel of her now. Their eyes remained locked. He could see a direct correlation between her lucidity and his touch.

  He was going to go to hell for this. He was sure of it. He'd been a horn-dog for years. He'd hurt his share of women who'd been looking for a commitment he could never provide. He'd even slept with a married woman or two. None of these events he was proud of, but none of those things came even close to how fucked up he felt touching the innocent young woman he currently held in his arms. The fact that she was begging him was irrelevant. She was the victim. He was victimizing her.

  The lust in her eyes drew him in. His resolve was wavering, and when she began grinding herself against his stationary fingers, he caved.

  She'd closed her eyes, chasing a climax he prayed would take the edge off her misery.

  "Allie, open your eyes." She slowly complied. He was relieved to see some of the frantic urgency receding. His mind made up, he instructed her. "Tell me to stop if you change your mind."

  He willed his fingers to move. Up and down his right fingers traced along her swollen lower lips. He couldn't bring himself to look at anything but her eyes, but his fingers explored, feeling how swollen her sex was. Those bastards had really done a fucking number on her.

  His first brush against her clit had her bucking almost out of his arms. Tears flooded her eyes and he stopped. She was in pain.

  He froze. He didn't want to hurt her.

  Her hand came down on top of his, holding his hand in place against her. And then she started grinding her hips. Up, down, in circles, all the while pressing his hand down, making sure to maintain his connection to her body. Each time his digit connected with her clit, she jumped, but then pressed harder.

  His instincts took over. He knew how to pleasure a woman. This was no different. He could do this. It wasn't sexual. It was medical.

  Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sport.

  He pushed down his reservations and let his fingers explore, noting what seemed to hurt her and what brought her pleasure. He tried not to let her heavenly scent get to him. He tried even harder not to let her pleading looks penetrate his heart, but there was no ignoring it. What he was doing was intimate. Sexual.

  Several minutes in, he knew there was a problem. Most women receiving his current treatment would have come several times over by now. As more time went on with Allie, two things were happening. She was getting increasingly sore. He could tell his touch was beginning to be more painful for her. Worse, her frustration at being unable to climax brought back her manic gaze.

  "Allie, it's the drug. We need to get you back to a hospital."

  She shook her head frantically, holding his arm in place and humping up and down.

  Zach had held back, afraid to hurt her, but something needed to change.

  He moved his left arm that was cradling her up and wound his fingers through her mussed hair, pulling her head forward with a yank at the exact moment he used his right thumb and middle finger to pinch her swollen clit as hard as he could.

  He felt her breath on his cheek, they were so close. Her eyes were wide with surprise. "Come for me, Allie. Right now!"

  Zach wasn't sure who was more relieved when an enormous orgasm rocked the fragile woman in his arms. It was as if she'd expended every ounce of her energy. She collapsed like a rag doll in his arms. Spent. She closed her eyes and the smallest of smiles played on her lush lips.

  Zach was relieved he'd brought her some relief. He took a final minute to cradle her close as he pulled the blanket around her again, returning her modesty as best he could under the conditions before standing and hauling ass in the direction of the rendezvous.

  He heard the chopper before he set eyes on it. They'd sent another Huey. It was going to be a bitch to set down in the woods, but he couldn't wait to get in the air so he could better care for Allie.

  He took the final quarter mile at a run. The terrain was thinning, and the sun was rising fast. They needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

  He was glad to see his friend David 'Rock' Benson running to greet him when he got in sight.

  Rock had to shout over the sound of the copter. "I wasn't sure I'd see your ass again, Thunder. Here, give her to me."

  Zach was exhausted. He should pass Allie over. He couldn't. "Naw. I've got her. Who'd they send to pick us up?"

  "Ben. Be prepared. He seems to think this little incident proves he's the better pilot."

  "My ass."

  They were almost to the waiting chopper when his commanding officer turned and walked to meet him.

  Neither man said a word. If Major thought Zach was going to apologize for not following orders, he'd be sorely disappointed.

  "Nice of you to join us. I'm gonna nail your ass to the wall when we get back to base. You could have gotten yourself killed, marine."

  "Yes, sir."

  "That's all you have to say for yourself? You realize I could have you court-martialed for this little stunt, don't you?"

  At those words, Allie started to wriggle in his arms. She must have been conscious enough to be listening to Zach get his ass chewed out by the major.

  Peter took his eyes off Zach and pulled the blanket back from Allie's face. He took in her bruised face. Peter pulled the blanket a bit farther. Far enough to see she was naked. Zach saw the anger in his commander's eyes as he looked back at Zach.

  He cleared his throat before finally announcing, "Well done, marine. Now get your ass on the chopper. It's time to get the hell out of here."

  Zach looked down at Allie, relieved to see a small smile on her face. It was his turn to tell her, "Thanks."

  Chapter 4

  "Come on, Allie. I need you to keep drinking."

  Sleep. She just wanted to pass out. Why wouldn't they let her sleep?

  Muscular arms hugged her tighter, lifting her into a sitting position. She tried to open her eyes but couldn't manage it. At the first slit of opening, she crushed her lids closed. It was so damn bright.

  Disorientation. Where was she? Wherever it was, it was too loud. Why did it sound like she was at the airport?

  Pain. Every part of her body hurt. Had she been in an accident? That would explain why she ached.

  Horny. There was no explanation for that emotion, but there it was. Her biggest ache was between her legs.

  Despair. Panic returned with a start. She was in danger.

  She was suffocating. She needed air. She used all her strength to fight to be free. She needed to escape.

  "Allie! Wake up, honey. You're safe."

  There it was again. That voice. That soothing voice. She didn't know who it belonged to, but she so desperately wanted to believe it. She remembered that voice whispering to her. Whispering comforting words. Encouragement.

  She forced her eyes open just a crack. She needed to see who that voice belonged to.

  "That's it. Wake up for me. You need to keep drinking water so we can flush that poison out of you."

  She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her throat hurt so bad. Come to think of it, she hurt everywhere. Her wrists were the worst. Her arms felt as heavy as lead. It took all of her strength to lift her arm high enough to see her wrist.

  "You were bleeding. We wrapped your wrists to keep your wounds clean until we can get you to the hospital."

  She looked up into the eyes of the man speaking, and memories—horrible memories—flooded back to her as if a dam had broken.

  Any peace she had been feeling fled, replaced with fear. Blinding fear. Kidnapped. Drugged. Molested.

  And saved. She'd been rescued.

  "Zach?" His name came back to her with the rest of her memories.

  He grinned, happy she'd remembered. "Yep. I've got you. We're still an hour out from our base. We thought about putting down at a hospital in Bogotá, but since our mission wasn't exactly sanctioned, we thought it was better to take you back to the
base hospital in Honduras."

  She had so many questions she didn't know where to start.

  "How? Did Dad hire you?" It hurt to speak.

  Zach shook his head. "That's the second time you've asked me that. I don't know who your dad is, honey. I don't even know what your last name is."

  "How did you know where I was?"

  "Just good luck, I guess. You shouldn't talk. I promise to answer all of your questions once you're feeling better."

  The damn urges were coming back with a vengeance now that she was awake. She was hyper aware of his proximity, enjoying being held in his arms. She felt her nakedness under the thin blanket.

  Allie crooked her neck to try to get a peek of where she was, and was surprised to see several sleeping soldiers dressed in the same uniform as Zach. She didn't need to see the US flag patch on their uniform to know they were American.

  She burrowed back into the cover of the blanket, hiding from the strange men sitting so near. Conflicting emotions wracked her.

  Men had hurt her. Men had kidnapped her and drugged her. They would have raped her if Zach hadn't saved her.

  That was the moment she knew her life was forever changed. This event—this horrible event—it had changed her. It was the kind of thing that marked a moment in time. There would forever be 'before the kidnapping' and 'after the kidnapping'. She prayed that, with time, she would forget everything about the horrific few hours that constituted the actual kidnapping. There was nothing positive to glean from it.

  That wasn't true. She looked up at Zach. His dark hair, and the unshaven stubble which covered his strong jaw. His kind green eyes that looked worried. She felt his muscular arms that had carried her to safety, and his chest that had been her pillow as she'd slept. His strong hands had cared for her.

  Oh, God. She'd begged him to fuck her. Humiliation at the memory of her abhorrent behavior flooded her. She knew it had been the drugs, yet shame made her snap her eyes closed, afraid to see reproach in his eyes.

  "Allie. Open those eyes." Oh God, why couldn't the bottom of the helicopter open up and suck her away so she didn't have to face him? The worst part was, now that she remembered, she was desperate for him to touch her again.

  The blinding need was building again. He'd helped her take the edge off once, but the drugs were still rushing through her blood, clouding her judgment.

  She couldn't have stopped her rocking if she wanted to. She tried valiantly to get some contact to her swollen clit, but it wasn't working. Pressure was building again. She inched her fingers lower, desperate to touch herself.

  Zach's voice was louder. Demanding. "Open, now." It was a command. She obeyed.

  His green eyes bored into her. He knew. She felt the warmth of her blush on her face.

  She found the water bottle at her lips and she drank with thirst. But long after her thirst was quenched, Zach continued to force water on her.

  "No more!" she sputtered as water she could no longer swallow spilled down her chin and onto her chest.

  "Yes, more. We need to get as much water in you as we can to flush that shit out of your system. Do you know what they gave you?"

  She remembered, but she didn't want to say the words. It was too horrible. Then she realized that other women would surely be tortured with the same fate. If she could assist in making sure it wouldn't make it into the mainstream public's hands, she had to speak up.

  "I don't think it has a name. They called it… the next generation date rape drug. They were testing it. Preparing to mass produce it."

  "Fuck me."

  She couldn't help but smile. "I tried. You said no."

  It wasn't funny. She shouldn't make jokes, yet in that moment, they both grinned.

  "Thank you for that, by the way. At the time, I hated you, but… well, you know," she said.

  "I do know. I just hope you'll forgive me for…"

  "Forgive you? You saved me! You helped me."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly proud of everything I did." His eyes met hers seriously before leaning close to whisper in her ear. "And if you don't quit that rocking, I'm gonna have to do it again."

  His arms wrapped her close, making her feel safe. She laid her head on his shoulder, drinking in his masculine scent. Desire for him flared and for the first time, she knew it wasn't all the drug's doing. She would want to be with a man like Zach with or without the drug.

  A voice came over the loudspeaker announcing they were only forty-five minutes out from the base. As anxious as she was to have her nightmare end, she wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye to her savior. She'd most likely never see him again after the mission ended.

  "Hey, what's this? Where'd that smile go?" He tried to cheer her, but she saw the same sadness in his eyes. He knew time was short, too.

  The burn was getting worse again. God, she needed…

  "Please. Can you… help me… again?"

  His eyes widened, unsure if she meant what he thought. She nodded. He looked around the benches in the back of the transport helicopter, taking stock of how many of his unit were still sleeping. He was tempted.

  Allison moved her hand from under the cover to find his. They twined their fingers together before she started to move their joined hands below the blanket. She burned for him to touch her again.

  His fingers brushed her lightly before he yanked his hand back as if she were on fire and he'd burned himself.

  Anger flashed in his eyes and Allison shrank back as a reflex. The last man she'd seen that angry had backhanded her.

  Regret replaced anger in his beautiful green eyes. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

  She lied. "You didn't." She was hurt, though. He wasn't interested in her that way. Hell, who could blame him? She was damaged goods.

  She snuggled lower again, this time to avoid looking into his eyes. The next forty-five minutes couldn't pass fast enough.

  But Zach saw through her, putting his finger under her chin and lifting her face to look into his eyes.

  "It's the drugs talking, Allie. We'll get you medical attention and everything will be back to normal. You'll see."

  She didn't know how to tell him nothing would ever be normal again. Still, she felt a yearning for something more.

  "I don't think it's the drugs, Zach. It's more than that."

  He took his time, searching for the right words. Allie held her breath, hoping he felt the connection she felt, too.

  "You aren't thinking right yet. You've been through so much. You feel grateful that I saved you, is all. But… I was doing my job."

  His words cut deep. She couldn't meet his eyes any longer. What had she been thinking? She'd embarrassed herself enough. He wasn't interested in her that way.

  He had just been doing his job.

  Zachary walked out into the late afternoon sun. He'd spent over thirty-six hours in base headquarters being drilled by everyone, from his commanding officer to the Marine Corp's version of internal affairs. He'd had to relive the events of the last mission so many times he was tempted to record the story so he could save time and just play it back for the next person who gave a shit.

  He was exhausted, having only been allowed to take a few catnaps since their return. Worse yet, he was grimy, having only been allowed to splash his face and brush his teeth.

  He needed a shower and a bed—in that order.

  But instead of heading to his small on-base apartment, he jumped in his jeep and took off for the opposite side of base. Because more than a shower or a bed, what he needed the most was to check in on Allie.

  Allie Benson. Only daughter of Walter Benson; US Senator and powerful chairman of the arms appropriation committee.

  What stupid luck it had been that he'd stumbled upon her that night. The odds were a million to one, and yet the universe had brought them together for a reason. When he thought about what would be happening to her right this minute if his helicopter hadn't been shot down, it made him sick to his stomach.

 
; Those assholes would have made her pray for death.

  The base was small. The hospital petite. It only took him a few minutes to arrive at the main reception desk. An elderly nurse with sun-dried leathery skin and sad eyes welcomed him.

  "May I help you?"

  "I'm here to see Allie Benson. She's a civilian brought in thirty-six hours ago."

  The woman didn't even look at her computer. She picked up the phone and dialed two digits. Her words were cryptic. "He's here."

  She hung up and looked at Zach, her eyes less sad—more curious. "He'll be with you in just a moment."

  "I think you misunderstood. I'm here to see a woman. Allie Benson."

  "Yes. Allison Benson."

  So her full name was Allison. He liked Allie better.

  Zach had only waited a few short minutes when a middle-aged man in a three-piece suit came through the swinging double-doors labeled Critical Care. At first glance, Zach assumed he was Allie's doctor, but as he drew closer, Zach saw the worry lines around his eyes. He noticed the loosened necktie and wrinkled slacks. Anger radiated from him, and Zach knew he was about to meet Allie's father.

  "Captain Garrett, I presume?" He extended his right hand to greet Zach. The gesture was friendly enough, yet Zach knew he was being weighed and measured by the senator.

  "Yes, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator Benson."

  The elder's eyes widened with surprise. "You know who I am?"

  Zach answered, a wry smile on his lips. "I didn't have any idea until I went through my debriefing. It seems a few of my superior officers were under the impression that I knew who Allie was when I rescued her."

  Steely blue eyes met his own. He could see the senator was thinking the same thing, but to his credit, he didn't say it out loud.

  "I wonder if you'd mind walking with me out to the courtyard. It's much cooler out there and a bit more private." The senator's eyes shot briefly to the eavesdropping receptionist just a few feet away. "I'd like to spend a few minutes chatting, if you don't mind."

  Zach actually did mind. He had waited long enough to see Allie. He wasn't keen on yet another delay. Still, he'd better play nice with her dad. No good would come from pissing the elder man off.