Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  With his shirt removed, she turned her attention to the cut across his forearm. It looked better, like it was almost healed.

  She glanced up and met his gaze. “What will your commanding officer say when you get back?”

  He shrugged. “I had to phone in and tell him the day after it happened. He was pissed until I explained the situation.”

  “What exactly did you tell him?”

  “That a guy had beat up a woman and I stepped in. When I told him two guys had joined in the fight, he asked why no one else stepped in.”

  “So what did he say about it all.”

  “Told me to be careful. Wants me to keep a low profile. I’ve been checking in with him every day.”

  “So are you going to be in trouble?”

  “Trouble, no. I’ll probably have to attend some BS training. They might tell me how to stay safe and de-escalate a situation instead of fighting, but no, I’m not in trouble.”

  Worry filled her. She placed her hand on Striker’s chest. “I don’t want to cause you any problems.”

  “You didn’t. When I told him about your busted eye and lip, he congratulated me on taking them down. Officially he couldn’t, but privately he said he understood why I’d stood up for you.”

  She was about to say more when Striker leaned in and kissed her, blanking her mind. She was lost in a haze of passion in minutes. He knew exactly how to touch her to bring her pleasure. He undressed her slowly, kissing his way lower, paying attention to each breast, loving on her like she was the most precious person in existence.

  When he licked over her pussy, she cried out with pleasure. He took her higher and higher, twisting her up in need she hadn’t realized she had. She came hard, and he moved fast, rolling on a condom before sliding in.

  Her gasps filled the room and mixed with his moans. He moved slowly, not rushing her second orgasm. This was pure bliss, and she enjoyed every second being with him.

  “Tell me, Shannon, are you mine?” Striker asked as he slid in and ground against her.

  She gasped, then moaned at the motion. “Yes.”

  He growled and then lowered, sucking on her neck, surely leaving a mark. Heat expanded through her, and she threw back her head. He took advantage of her position and licked up her neck. He knew exactly what she needed when she needed it.

  The passion between them built, and then he pulled almost all the way out before slamming in. His moves took her breath away. She cried out as he pounded in, taking her closer to the edge of reason.

  His lips were by her ear, his breath hot on her neck as he grunted and plunged in, holding her tight. His muscles jerked, and he came. His orgasm set her off, leaving her breathless.

  After he pulled out, she lay wrapped in his arms, dreaming of them being together. Somehow, they had to last. If she never saw him again, the stars would dim, the sun wouldn’t be as bright, and she knew the wind wouldn’t feel as sweet.

  The last thing in the world she wanted was to wake up in the morning and find him gone. He said he would stick around until eleven, but he’d have to head out before noon. That made her sad.

  She fought sleep as long as she could but eventually drifted off. When she cracked her eyes open, the sun streamed in. Striker stepped close and smiled down at her.

  “You’re awake?” she mumbled as she stretched.

  “Yeah, I got up early and packed. You slept hard.”

  “Oh.” She stared around at his bags, and sadness started an ache inside her she didn’t think she’d ever get over. Her heart kick-started, and she sat up. He had to leave, just like she had to stay.

  “I have coffee,” Striker said.

  “Thank you.” She hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, wanting to rush through getting ready just so she could spend more time with him.

  After using the restroom and brushing her teeth, she stepped out into the main room, shocked that his bags were already gone. The twisting knife of pain to her heart made her knees shake.

  Her gaze met his as desperation filled her. “You’re really leaving.”

  “I have to.”

  She reached out, and he took her hand. She would miss little things like this. He was the only man she’d ever met who made her feel like life had meaning. Before Striker, she’d been adrift, now she knew what she was living for.

  Her sadness grew, and she had to fight the urge to cry. She wanted to pull him close and never let go. “I know you have to go, but I didn’t want this day to come.”

  “I understand. I didn’t either. But after you graduate, would you be willing to move to Georgia?”

  She nodded as excitement pinged through her. “I’d have to come back to take my license test, but I’d move there with you.”

  “Good. I want you to live with me. I’ll find a way to have you close.”

  He pulled her to him, and she rested her head on his chest. Time needed to stop or speed up so she could be with him.

  The few hours they had left weren’t enough. Too soon he was dropping her off near her dad’s house. He asked to walk her to the door, but she said no since the cameras were still there.

  After he drove away, her heart ached like it would break. Alone, she made her way to the front door, glad her dad wasn’t home when she arrived. After starting a load of clothes, she cleaned the kitchen and the bathrooms, knowing her dad would be pissed she hadn’t been around during the last week to clean for him.

  After she had the bathrooms sparkling and the kitchen spotless, the rumble of her father’s truck coming down the street filled the house. Worry hit. He would ask where she’d been. Lying to her father was difficult, but there was no way she would ever tell him about Striker. If he knew she’d spent the week with a man and wasn’t married to him, he’d kick her out. She needed to stay here until she graduated and could get a job earning real money to afford rent.

  Before her dad came in, she headed to the laundry room and pulled her clothes from the dryer. They weren’t too damp and would dry overnight. If she made the mistake of leaving her clothes in the dryer after it finished, he would throw them away. He’d done that once. Now, she pulled them out slightly damp if he was around.

  He banged into the house, his voice booming as he griped about his issues with his phone. His voice carried to her room, but she ignored him, not even trying to seek him out. Her tactic only worked for a few minutes before he came looking for her.

  “So you came home. Where were you?”

  “I was staying with Ashley. She’s in my class.”

  His lips curled, and for a second, she imagined he would spit on the floor. “You should invite her over.”

  Any excuse she made would be met with him guessing correctly she hadn’t been with Ashley, so she nodded and smiled.

  “Are you home this week?” he barked out before he stepped into the hall.

  “I may have to stay over at Ashley’s during the week. We’re towards the end of the class, and we have a lot of tasks to complete.”

  “You can do it here. I need you to keep the house clean for me. I can’t have the place messy.”

  She nodded, acting like he’d won when really, she wouldn’t have known what to do if he wanted her gone to Ashley’s place. If her father knew she’d been with a man who didn’t even live in the city, she’d be kicked to the curb.

  Her dad left her alone for the rest of the evening, and she caught up on homework, studying for her biology test. Focusing on her work was hard when memories of Striker kept popping up.

  She’d turned her phone to silent before sitting down for dinner. Her dad hated interruptions and really hated when her phone rang. Later, when she found a text from Striker, excitement pinged, but disappointment flared when she realized he’d sent it almost an hour before.

  They exchanged a few texts before Striker said he had to go to sleep. Her dad wasn’t making noise, but that didn’t mean he’d turned in for the evening. He could just be drunk and watching TV. She didn’t want to chance bumpi
ng into him again, so she went to bed.

  The next week was full for her, so missing Striker wasn’t so bad. The week after was when the real blues started. They talked when they could, and she sent him texts each morning and evening, but the connection was off like they’d lost a little something.

  At some point in the weeks following him leaving, she either caught a bug or got food poisoning. She couldn’t afford to miss class, so she hoped for the best as she took off to head to school.

  When she had two weeks left at the end of school, Striker said he would be unreachable for a few weeks. Her mind twisted into overdrive about what he’d meant. Fear filled her. Had Striker given her the brush-off? What if he never wanted to see her again?

  9

  Every text, every call was special for Striker. He wanted to be with Shannon, but she had responsibilities in Charleston, and he had work here. There were some days he putzed around with nothing to do, and those were the days that seemed pointless. When he had a task to keep him busy, life wasn’t too bad. He marked off the weeks on a paper calendar he kept in his storage locker. Every day that ticked by was one day closer to holding her in his arms again.

  When she was close to graduation, he learned his unit would be traveling to the hot zone to rescue a group of captive American diplomats. They weren’t in immediate danger since the state department was negotiating for their release, but it was looking like negations could fall apart. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice.

  He called Shannon, praying she picked up. Disappointment hit when her phone rolled to voicemail. He pocketed his phone and was about ready to head out to grab a drink with his buddies when his pocket vibrated. Then the upbeat jingle of Shannon’s ringtone sounded. He pulled his phone out and answered, pleasure filling him.

  “Hey, Shannon, you called back.”

  “I’m sorry I missed your first call. I was in the middle of washing dishes.”

  “I miss you.” He hadn’t wanted to lead with that. He’d wanted to tell her how great his week had been, which might have been a little white lie, but he didn’t want to sound completely pathetic.

  She sighed, and the click of a door or something like that sounded over the phone. “I miss you too. I can’t wait until I’m done.”

  The door to his room flew open and Lance, his suitemate, stuck his head in. “Hurry up, Striker. We’re ready.”

  “Oh, are you headed out?” Shannon asked.

  Lance lifted his eyebrows and motioned with his hand for Striker to hurry. Striker waved him off.

  “Sorry, just my suitemate wanting to go.”

  Shannon groaned, and for a second, he believed she was complaining about his need to go.

  “Sorry, my dad is calling for me. It looks like we both have people who want us to hang up. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Yeah, I miss you,” Striker said.

  “And I miss you too.”

  He hung up and stared down at his phone for a moment before glancing up and meeting Lance’s gaze. His buddy winked and then nodded to the hall.

  “Come on. I know you miss her. She’ll be done with school soon, and you’ll have her here. I’ll miss having you as a roommate.”

  “Nah, you won’t. You’ll celebrate with naked time in the main room.”

  “Probably. I like naked time.”

  Striker rolled his eyes and shook his head as he followed Lance out. His guys were meeting for one drink, and Lance had been invited though he wasn’t going on the mission. Drinks at the bar with his buddies was a sort of celebration before a huge mission. Maybe the State Department would pull a rabbit out of the hat and get the diplomats out safely, but he doubted it.

  Traveling overseas to step in and work with another unit was always interesting. Their mission was to rescue fifteen diplomats being held in a resort in the Democratic Republic of Congo. It was a stupid move on the embassy’s part to have the diplomats travel away from the embassy, but stupid people did stupid stuff. That’s why there were Rangers to step in when the world went crazy.

  The flight over the Atlantic was long, and he had time to think about Shannon. He missed her. Just a few more weeks and they could be together. He hoped nothing went wrong. This mission had him nervous though. The situation was messed up. Thoughts of other embassy rescues filtered through his mind. He shouldn’t think about mistakes other teams made, but he couldn’t shake the weird feeling.

  He’d just met Shannon and didn’t want this mission to go to hell. He had to keep it together out here or risk everything. This mission meant more than just rescuing people. He had to survive because more than his bed and truck waited for him at home. His future was with Shannon and he didn’t want to miss it for anything.

  10

  Shannon hadn’t recovered from the bug, and another worry sat heavy in her gut, making it difficult to breathe if she thought about it too much. After her test, she headed to the bathroom to get sick again. She was washing her face when one of the girls from class stepped in, shaking her head.

  “When are you going to take that test?”

  The question threw Shannon, and she lifted her brows. “I just finished.”

  “Not that one. You know—peeing on the stick type of test.”

  The words filled her with fear, and she started shaking her head. “No way. I’m not pregnant.”

  Hearing her own fears thrown in her face made her worry grow even more. She swore Striker had used a condom every single time. But what if…?

  “You don’t look so good,” the woman said.

  Shannon drew in a slow breath. She still had a half day to go before she could rush out and buy a pregnancy test. The worst part of this, Striker had just left for his two weeks away and was unreachable.

  The minutes ticked slowly by, the wait painful. After class, she caught a ride home, then walked over to the pharmacy. Her father had decided that after graduation she wouldn’t be able to use the car he’d been letting her drive. He’d taken it away two days ago and decided to sell it. He wouldn’t even let her offer a payment plan. Said he didn’t want the bother of collecting money from her.

  When she’d asked to live at his place while she went to school, she’d known he didn’t want to really help her. The only reason he agreed to let her stay was to keep his house clean. Now, she had no way to get to school other than public transportation or begging rides. She thought he was being mean just for the heck of it, but that was his way.

  Once she got home, she headed to the bathroom and opened the package for the pregnancy test. This was the first time she’d ever even seen a pregnancy test up close. Her hands shook as she read the instructions. After she set up the stick beside the toilet, her stomach rolled from fear, not sickness.

  What if Striker asked her to abort the baby? Could she do that?

  No question, if she was pregnant, it was Striker’s baby. She hadn’t had sex for almost a year before him, and there’d been no one after him.

  She pulled out her phone and looked at her calendar, counting back the weeks since her last period. It had been too long. School had left her exhausted, and she’d forgotten to do things like track her period.

  The only way to know if she was pregnant was to take the test.

  Her hands shook as she held the stick. This was one of the most awkward things she’d ever done. Once she’d finished, she capped the stick and set it aside.

  The unmistakable rumble of her father’s truck pulling into the driveway sounded. Panic flared. She shoved the pregnancy test along with the paper into a drawer and washed her hands. She’d have to look at the test later. For now, she needed to get dinner cooking.

  Her father wanted tacos, so she had to go to the store and pick up meat and peppers along with cheese and guacamole. Because the possible pregnancy had her tied up in knots, she forgot the tortillas and had to run back into the store. Her father would be pissed it was taking her so long. She’d need to come up with a story about why it had seemed to take her f
orever to get the food.

  She finally made it home to find her father had already cracked open the tequila. It would be that type of night.

  After getting the meat cooked and spiced, she started in on the vegetables. Everything was fine. The food was on the table, and she was ready to eat when her father stumbled into the kitchen, his fist clenched around something small. She flinched when he lifted his hand and shook it at her.

  “What is this?” His voice echoed around the room, anger seething.

  She stared at his hand, leaning in closer. What did he have? She drew in a slow breath as fear took over.

  Crap!

  He held her pregnancy test clutched in his fist. Oh God, how had he found that?

  “I can—” she sputtered but his roar cut her off.

  “You’re pregnant! Who the fuck is the guy? I want to meet him right now.”

  Her knees went weak, and her stomach pitched. This was the worst thing that could happen.

  She shrank back against the wall, wishing she could hide. Her dad stepped close, his face red as a beet. He shook his raised fist at her.

  “Who is he? Tell me now. I’m going to go drag him out on his ass and force him to do the right thing.”

  She held up her hands, palms out, praying for help. “Dad, stop.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “He-he’s not here.” Her voice shook as much as her body. Fear had taken over.

  He swung and his fist connected with her cheek. Pain exploded. Her ears rang with the pain from the punch.

  She took a staggering step to the side, and he swung again, his hand open this time, the slap resounding. She fell, stumbling against the cabinet, her head glancing off the countertop as she went down. He reared back and kicked her leg, the blow filling her with pain.

  Silence ensued as her dad stormed out, slamming the door behind him. No question he was angry, but was he drunk too? Probably. She should stop him, keep him from getting into a crash. She tried to stand but plopped back to her ass. It was too much to stand so she stayed on the floor for a moment, listening to the roar of his truck recede.