Twisted Honor (Deep Six Security Series, #2)

by Becky McGraw

  “I said get in the bed!” Taylor repeated, pointing at the bed as she glared down at him like a very sexy little general in her bra and a scrap of lace that posed as underwear.

  When she turned toward the bed and climbed up, he saw the cheeks of her perfectly round ass were dissected by a thin scrap of black elastic. He could not climb in that bed in the condition he was in right now, because there wouldn’t be much sleeping going on. His heart was fucking racing now, and he had enough adrenaline going to power all of Dallas.

  But she leaned over the bed to look down at him. “Put Lola back out in the living room, close that door and get in this bed with me.” When he still just stared up at her, Taylor’s lips pinched. “Now, Slade! I know exactly what you need. This is not my first rodeo, and you are not the first man I’ve helped through it.”

  Shock and more than a little excitement launched him up to sit. “Sex would definitely help, but are you sure you want to go there?” Lola sat beside him to look up at Taylor too. Slade was more than onboard with that idea, but he needed to make sure before he climbed up in that bed she knew tomorrow morning there would be no roses or promises. This was not his first rodeo either. “I have to warn you, I don’t do anything other than casual sex.”

  Her brows slammed together. “I wasn’t talking about sex, I was talking about a massage.” She huffed a breath and rolled her eyes. “I saw some baby oil in the bathroom earlier, so go get it before you get in bed. And take your clothes off.”

  A delicious shiver zipped down his spine to the end of his now painfully engorged dick. He had never had a woman give him a massage before, and the idea was titillating if it led to sex, but knowing it would only lead to sensual torture in this situation gave him pause.

  Maybe it would help though. At the very least he wouldn’t be thinking about war zones and explosions for a little while. Pushing up to his feet, Slade pulled his shirt away from his sweaty body.

  “I need a shower first.” And I need to knock the edge off of this need clawing in my gut before I let you put those tiny little hands of yours on my body, or we’re both going to be in deep trouble since your offer doesn’t include sex.

  “You don’t need to shower, it’s nearly three in the morning,” she growled, sitting up on her knees, disappointing him when she dragged the covers up to her chin. She snapped a finger toward the bathroom. “What you need is to relax, so just get the damned oil so we both can get some sleep!”

  Slade studied her a minute, then with a huffed breath stripped his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. The way her eyes locked on his midsection had his muscles there contracting, his zipper cutting into his cock.

  Yeah, relaxation was definitely not going to be on the menu once she touched him, but from the look on her face he knew she wasn’t taking no for an answer. And who was he to say no to a woman who wanted to touch him? Especially the sexy Little General sitting in his bed issuing orders. With a heavy breath, he turned to the door, let Lola out then strode toward the bathroom to get the oil.

  When Slade returned to the bedroom, Taylor threw the covers back with a whoosh and knelt on the bed. All the blood in his body rushed to his cock, because although the room was dark, the light from the bathroom landed like a spotlight on the creamy skin of her upper body. The cups of her bra, which was as skimpy as the thong underwear he’d noticed earlier, barely covered her nipples and lifted her breasts up like a visual buffet for him.

  For a small woman, her full breasts were definitely not proportional and his mouth watered to taste them. His fingers curled around the bottle of oil tightly. Biting back a groan, he quickly handed her the bottle of oil and turned his back to shuck his jeans. He wrapped the towel he’d grabbed around his waist, before removing his underwear, because the last thing he wanted was for her to see how damned hard he was, harder now from the sight of her in that big bed waiting for him.

  This was the worst idea in the world, he thought, as he knelt on the bed, laid flat like she instructed. She crawled to the end of the bed as he buried his face in the pillow that smelled like her now. Soft and flowery, clean and womanly. How in the fuck was he going to sleep in this bed again and not think about her sleeping in it? Changing the sheets tomorrow would get rid of her smell, but the vision of her kneeling in the middle of the bed would be with him for a long time.

  Slade held his breath when he heard her uncap the oil, then the gurgling of the oil as she poured some in her hands. The warmth of her hands cupped his ankles and his breath came out on a moan which he muffled in the pillow, as a hot wave of lava washed up his body. He gritted his teeth as every muscle in his body went rigid, along with other body parts.

  “Relax,” she purred softly, as she smoothed her hands up his calves to the backs of his knees spreading the heated oil. She raked her thumbs lightly over the back of his knees and a shiver shook him, as she dragged her palms back down his calves, and his toes curled tightly.

  Relax? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that was going to happen, Slade thought, as her small but strong fingers dug into the flesh above his ankles. He fisted the pillow, and even bit down on the case to keep from moaning.

  “Damn, even your feet are tense. I guess I need to start there.” Her rumbly little laugh that rolled through his skull as her weight left the bed. Her thumbs worked along the pad of his feet right below his toes and they straightened.

  Her hot breaths heated the back of his heels as her thumbs dug into the fleshy pads on his feet and lazy electrical jolts shot up his legs. Those magical hands of hers worked the tension from every toe, before she moved down the crease between his big toe to his instep, and flattened her thumb to massage a particular place that loosened the tension in his muscles a little.

  Gripping the top of his foot, she worked her sharp little fingers through the ridges there while she circled her thumbs at his instep soothingly. Every circle there chipped a little more of the tension away and his focus zoned on the friction she created there, until a shuddering sigh surprised him when it escaped.

  “That’s better,” she said, gliding her hands over his heels to massage on either side of his Achilles, working out the tension there. She pushed the heel of her hand into the back of his legs and slid upward to his knees, before digging her fingers into his calf muscles, working her fingers through every tight string, all the way back down to his heels creating a strange buzzing in them.

  Slade wiggled his toes enjoying the tingly sensation. But then the bed dipped and he felt her heat beside him before she threw her leg over him to straddle his lower legs. She settled on her haunches and the heat between her legs scorched him, as she pressed her knees into the sides of his calves, resting her tiny feet across his at his ankles.

  His hand flew back to grip her thigh, to tell her this wasn’t a good idea, but her small hands landed gently on the area above the bend in his knees and he froze. She leaned over him, glided her hands up the back of his thighs and Slade’s hand fell to the bed to fist the sheet as bolts of lightning sizzled up his legs with her hands setting every nerve in his body on fire.

  When her hands dipped under the edge of the towel to knead the muscles near his ass, her thumbs dug into his inner thighs near his balls, Slade was unable to stop his loud moan. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to turn over with everything in him as a tremor rocked him.

  “You okay?” she asked with concern.

  “No,” he grated into the pillow. “You need to get off of me.”

  “Am I hurting you?” she asked, rolling over to the side to put her hand in the center of his back sending electricity zipping up his neck and over his scalp. He could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head.

  “No, but you’re not helping either.” Slade rolled away to sit on the side of the bed, his dick throbbing in time with his out of control heart. “And I might hurt you if we don’t stop this right now. I’m going back to the sofa.” He reached back to grab a pillow, but her hand landed at the cen
ter of his back again and he tensed.

  “What would help you then?” she asked softly, her quick, even breaths heating his shoulder. She leaned in closer, and her warm, wet mouth kissed his shoulder. “Let me finish, and if that doesn’t do it, we’ll move on to option two.”

  Option two? Her meaning became clear and he fought back a needy whimper. Just the thought created a craving so intense he likened it to the gnawing in his gut he’d experienced when he battled his addiction to the painkillers they’d gotten him hooked on in the hospital.

  “This is not a good idea, Taylor,” he said, trying to push up from the bed but she slid off to stand in front of him and shove him back down.

  He looked into her soft eyes which sparkled from the light in the bathroom, which was a mistake. The mesmerizing draw of her eyes, her words and her soft, sexy body which was just inches from his, all combined to take the fight right out of him. Her hand drifted to his jaw and Slade fought the urge to lean into her touch, as the light scent of the baby oil on her skin teased him. She studied him for a moment, and he tried to figure out what she was looking for. Whatever it was, she must’ve found it, because her thumb stroked his cheek.

  “It might not be a good idea, but you need some rest. If you’re not snoring by the time I finish and we get to option two, I promise when the sun comes up, you’ll never hear about it again. Neither will anyone else.”

  “Women don’t work that way,” Slade contradicted gruffly, trying to ignore the rise and fall of her gorgeous breasts that were too near his face now. Inches from his tingling lips. Licking distance. Temptation to grab her wrist and roll her onto the bed was strong.

  “This woman does, trust me on that,” she replied with a short, harsh laugh.

  “Why is that?” he asked suspiciously. Her lips pinched and Slade began to think she wouldn’t answer, but she finally heaved a sigh and looked over his shoulder.

  “I’m still pretty raw from breaking up with my boyfriend, so I don’t want attachments any more than you do. My boyfriend who was married, but failed to tell me that during our three year relationship.”

  Her words sent shock then outrage coursing through Slade. He wanted to find that sleazy bastard and punch his lights out for her. That rage was quadrupled by his own rage from the ironic similarity to his own circumstance with Jeannie, a woman he planned to ask to marry him when he was back on his feet. A traitorous bitch who claimed to love him for three years, but had taken one glimpse at what a fucked up mess the military had returned to her and ran from his room the day he got back stateside.

  Slade hadn’t seen it himself, but he imagined his face before the reconstructive surgery was pretty horrific, the shunt in his skull to relieve the swelling in his brain terrifying. Him being gone for twenty-four months of their three year relationship had probably been tough on her too. But in his opinion you didn’t run out like she had on someone you claimed to love for three years. The horror on her face, the disgust, was something he would never forget or forgive. The cheating during his deployment that he found out about later just cemented his hatred for her.

  The old rage tried to burn brighter, but he held it back by focusing on the vision in front of him. Like his injuries, Jeannie was just a five-year-old distant and unpleasant memory. This woman offering herself to him was the present so he fought to stay focused on her. She made that very easy when she put her hands on her hips to lean in closer and hold his gaze.

  “The only thing I need you to tell me is that you’re not married or otherwise attached.”

  Slade swallowed hard then shook his head. His eyes left hers to track over her chin down her chest and along the shadowed cleft between her breasts.

  “I’m as unattached as a man can be,” he assured, his head gravitating toward the pillowy mounds spilling over the scraps of lace trying to restrain them.

  Detached, emotionally unavailable, never getting attached to a woman again. But totally on board with fucking you until neither of us can see straight.

  Her scent intoxicated him, her heat singed his lips, but right before his mouth touched her she backed away to point at the bed. “Then lay down on that bed and get ready to meet Mr. Sandman.”

  Slade’s hand shot out, closed around her wrist and she squeaked when he jerked her to him to bury his face in her cleavage and inhale her scent like a crack addict. “Forget, Mr. Sandman. I choose option two,” he mumbled against her flesh, as his arms clamped around her waist and he rolled her onto the bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “How in the hell could I forget you’re a karate expert?” Slade asked with a laugh, as he stared at the ceiling from the floor on the other side of the bed. His head had barely missed whacking the nightstand during his roll over the edge of the bed.

  Wouldn’t that have just been spectacular?

  Taylor leaned over the side of the bed to frown down at him. “We’re going to do this my way, so get back up here and let’s try this again.”

  He sat up, then stood to look down at her. “For a tiny woman, you sure are bossy.”

  “Tiny doesn’t mean weak,” she replied defensively, lifting her stubborn little chin, sounding as if she’d dealt with that assumption many times in her life.

  “Obviously, Little General.” Slade laughed as he sat on the bed, then crawled around her to plop down on the pillow.

  Her eyes swung to him, and a cute little crease appeared between her brows. “Little General?” she repeated, fishing around under the covers until she found the bottle of oil.

  “Yeah, you have a Napoleon complex,” Slade explained, then turned over when she tapped his shoulder and circled her hand.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Taylor asked, resting her hand at the center of his back, raising goosebumps all over his body.

  “You’re self-conscious that you’re small, so you use a big bark to compensate, hoping people won’t notice your size,” he mumbled into the pillow, hugging it tighter and gritting his teeth as she skimmed her hand down to the small of his back, over his ass then down the back of his thigh before she straddled him to get into massage position again. Both of her hands landed on the backs of his thighs and her fingers dug in not gently.

  “My bite is just as big as my bark and my size has nothing to do with it.” The sharp points of her tiny fingers kneaded his muscles from his knees up to his upper thighs and he flexed his ass cheeks against the almost pain she was inflicting.

  “I worked hard to develop skills to be an M.P. like my dad, but they didn’t want me because I’m small.” The more she talked, the deeper her fingers dug into his flesh on the way back down to his knees. “I was a sheriff’s deputy in Oklahoma for a while, but the damned sheriff wouldn’t let me carry a gun even though I could outshoot him. Because I’m a small woman.”

  Slade was sure she was hitting bone now, her fingers dug so deep. When she punched the back of his thigh twice like she was tenderizing a steak, he moaned.

  “He said a normal sized man would overpower me and take it from me, so I carried my personal weapon without telling him. When he found out he put me on desk duty indefinitely, so I left.” Taylor punched his right thigh then, her knuckle dug into the muscle there, and Slade groaned. Her voice wobbled, her motions slowed when she finished with, “I have every reason to be defensive about it.” Her motions ceased, she leaned back and a hot, wet drop splashed on his upper thigh then slid quickly down the side.

  Was she crying? Slade’s heart jerked in his chest at the thought.

  With a growl, he twisted to turn over under her, and Taylor sat there staring down at him in the darkness. He wished like hell he could see her face so he could tell, but a second wet drop landed on the front of his thigh, and he knew she was crying. When she swiped her arm across her face, he knew for sure.

  “You’re tired, and so am I.” He grabbed her hips to drag her off of him. “Let’s just get some sleep, I’m fine now.” Slade pulled her down beside him and closed his arms around her. The feel of
her soft flesh pressed against his side reignited the fires inside him, but he ignored it. Hesitantly, her arm crept over his waist and she laid her head on his shoulder.

  Silence fell until he could hear the whir of the ceiling fan, and although he was as comfortable now as he’d been in years, he was damned uncomfortable at the same time. His body buzzed with unsatisfied need, but his mind with softer urges he hadn’t had in a long time. The need to comfort this woman, protect her, and fix things for her.

  How in the hell could that be? He barely knew Taylor Kincaid. Her problems weren’t his. He had enough of his own right now to deal with. Maybe it was because she’d tried to help him.

  “Thanks for the massage,” he said fighting the urge to kiss her hair when she snuggled her face into his shoulder, tightened her hold on his waist. Tenderness had no place in his life now. He’d tried that route with a woman, and the only thing it had gotten him was gutted. That woman he’d known three years, and this one he’d only known three hours.

  “Welcome,” Taylor replied sleepily with a deep sigh, and the soft sweep of her eyelashes tickled his chest. “You’d be asleep if you’d have let me finish.”

  Massage or not, Slade knew sleep was not something he was going to find that night when Taylor pressed her body closer to his, threw her calf over his to rub her foot along his calf. He was in sheer sexual hell as his dick hardened painfully. Her hot, even breaths wafted over his skin, her scent teased him every time he breathed.

  “Night,” he muttered, as he used his foot to shove her leg off of his.

  He turned on his side away from her, and damn if she didn’t immediately scoot up behind him and suction her tight little body to his back and snuggle in. She shoved her hand under his arm and pried it up to drape her arm over his waist.

  “Slade?” she asked, her voice rumbling over the skin between his shoulder blades.

  “Yeah?” he replied shortly.