by Angel Payne
Surrendering To Her Sergeant
By Angel Payne
Surrendering To Her Sergeant
The W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces, Book 3
Copyright © 2013 By Angel Payne Writes, LLC
Smashwords Edition
All Rights Reserved
ISBN 978-0-9888701-6-1
If you have purchased a copy of this eBook, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Edited By:
Rory Olsen
Tracy Roelle
Cover Art:
Dee Allen
www.deeallencoverart.com
Meredith Blair
www.authorsangels.com
They blow up the enemy then they blow up the bedroom—
and they’re exploding their way into the hearts of romance lovers across the globe!
Praise for Angel Payne’s sexy W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces series:
For SAVED BY HIS SUBMISSIVE:
-“TOP PICK! A wonderful, adventurous, suspenseful, erotic read that will have you panting for much more. My emotions were all over the place…I totally love military men, and Garrett is one hot man, but what makes him hotter is his undying love for Sage.” – The Romance Reviews
-“Wow! This book was a total surprise for me! Truly, this was one of the most beautiful love stories I have read.” – The Delighted Reader
-“This is an awesome new series, with a nice blend of suspense and D/s.” – Under the Covers Book Blog
-“After reading Saved By His Submissive, I have added Ms. Payne to the short list of writers I will automatically buy a book from…the book provides a refreshing change to the standard romance novel.” – Sizzling Hot Books
-“This book will have you going through a range of emotions. A four glass wine toast!” – Reading Between the Wines Book Club
-“I found that this was a book I just couldn’t put down. I got hooked from the beginning and then I just couldn’t stop reading. Garrett and Zeke are…good dream material.” – Love Romance Passion Blog
-“Sage is one of the best lead heroines that I’ve come across in quite some time. I need plot, heart and the female to do me proud, and Sage Weston delivers, absolutely! The dialogue between these two characters is so beautiful, raw and intimate, it would be hard not to fall in love with them as a couple.” – PRUF Reads Blog
-“Well-written…a thrilling plotline with complicated characters…Angel Payne does an excellent job of telling the darker side of self-doubt and fear through the eyes of the leading man, too.” – AriesGrl Reviews
For HANDCUFFED BY HER HERO:
-“I am never disappointed with what Angel Payne brings to the table. She always rocks it out hardcore in everything she creates, and Handcuffed By Her Hero is no exception. Zeke and Rayna have…a gritty, suspenseful, incredibly sexy story that will keep you on your toes and leave you breathless…I caught myself a couple of times holding my breath, and trying to read faster and faster. It was a very emotional read…a story of survival, growth and love.” – Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads
-“Many times when you are waiting for the next book in a series, you cross your fingers that the next book is as good as the first. In Handcuffed By Her Hero, Angel Payne has exceeded my expectations. In fact, she’s blown me away. I wish I had more than five stars to give.” – Sizzling Hot Books
-“REVVED-UP READ! Angel Payne hits another one out of the park…dynamic characters, sizzling chemistry and pulse-pounding plot twists. A riveting read that will certainly please readers.” – The Jeep Diva
-“Grabbed hold of my heart and never let go. Zeke and Rayna’s intense bond is forged in fire. Thick with passion, smoldering looks and red-hot dominant sex, Angel Payne has created a sequel to rival its sibling. I am anxious for the continuation of her addicting characters!” – RomFan Reviews
-“I really loved this book. Zeke is the epitome of the hot sexy alpha military man, and Rayna is one of the strongest female characters that I’ve read lately. Both of these characters are complicated, which makes for a great story, and it worked in such a suspenseful erotic romance. This is one hot and steamy read. I’m still waiting for the fog to clear on my Kindle!” – Delighted Reader Book Blog
-“Wow! The ending of the book is particularly awesome!” – Twinsie Talk Book Reviews
-“Zeke’s power and intensity are jaw dropping and sexy as hell. He is a knight in black leather…who awakens impulses and desires that Rayna has never felt before. The book as a whole is deep and passionate.” – Raw Books
DEDICATION
As always, for Sir…for continuing to make my dreams come true no matter how bratty I get.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Sometimes, “the experts” tell you to write what you know. In the case of this story, it was a case of “who you know” for me. Setting things close to home translated in getting to have some amazing real-life inspirations for a cast of characters who are incredibly special to me. Thank you all for being the amazing people that you are!
Ava…a friend of my heart, a writer who simply “gets it,” and a sister of my soul. I love you, woman.
Charlie and Matt…beautiful men, inside and out, with a love story that’s inspiration for us all. I love you both so much!
Hudsy…thank you for your vibrance, your beauty, and for always being available to so many who want to explore the lifestyle. You seriously are the embodiment of the word “goddess.”
*****
To my incredible beta reading team:
I couldn’t have made it through this one without your help the help and feedback,
always given with the utmost joy and love in your hearts…
Tracy: who always gives it to me straight, honest, and true. I love you, woman.
(And for the record, I have no idea what Cortyg brandy tastes like, either…but if it’s blue, I’ll bet we’re good! Ha!)
Shannon: Your undying love for Ethan has made all the difference in the world. Heart you!
Cleo: *Fistbump.* That is all…and you know the thousands of reasons why.
*****
Very special thanks to Cynthia Gonzales,
who selflessly gave of her time to correct my stumblings at Spanish!
*****
A special shout-out to the Hilton Universal City, for letting me fictionally add another atrium to your property, as well as an events lawn and convenient loading curb.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Six
teen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Coming Soon!
About The Author
Chapter One
“Is this a dream?”
The words were whispered into Ethan Archer’s ear by the forest goddess he was seconds away from kissing. Corny comparison? Roger that. But completely true? Double on the affirmative. She was mesmerizing. Thick mist rolled around the pine tree to which he’d pressed her, stroking the waves of her auburn hair, leaving droplets on the long lashes bordering her indigo eyes, caressing every inch of the light bronze skin that the cowl of her sweater would allow. Lucky bastard, that mist.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he murmured. “Maybe we’d better do some recon, just to be sure.”
“Yeah. Recon…” Her voice trailed away into a needy sigh, suffusing his chest with warmth and his cock with fire, as they leaned toward each other. He caught the end of her breath with a brush of his mouth to hers.
His gentle intent lasted two seconds.
The second he tasted her, he needed more. Strawberries. Mango. Sunshine. Sudden summer in this chilled bower. Fuck, yes. He used his lips to spread her, demanding deeper entrance. When she yielded with an eager mewl, he swept in, coaxing her tongue into a sensual dance. By raw instinct, he found both her wrists with his hands. With one sweep, he had them locked over her head, against the tree’s trunk.
He pulled away to lock his gaze on her, too. “My dream includes this,” he growled.
A slow smile curled on her lips. “Mine, too.”
“That’s not what your eyes are telling me, sunshine.”
She widened those indigo irises. “Wh-what do you—”
“What is it? What are you holding back? Tell me now.”
“I—umm—”
“What?” he demanded.
“Tighter,” she finally rasped, working her wrists against his grip. “I need it tighter, Ethan. Please…”
She had him at the throaty delivery and the subtle Spanish accent, but the request itself ignited his lust from a spark to a rager. With a snarl, he rammed her wrists harder to the tree. With a gasp, she gave him the full access pass to kiss her again. Forget sweet preludes. He went for the depths of her mouth with passionate intent, spearing her throat just like he yearned to get his dick, now aching to the point of pain, inside her body.
A set of words echoed in his brain. They’d come from his Army Special Forces teammate, Garrett Hawkins, as glasses were raised to toast the guy’s upcoming wedding. Fate gives you the best shit when you least expect it, guys. Ethan was way on board with that credo now. When he’d shown up to help with Hawk’s last-minute ceremony, none of his wildest expectations had yielded someone like Ava Chestain, especially after he “introduced” himself by tackling her in Garrett’s living room in a misguided rush of paranoia.
When she’d grinned and joined the banter in teasing him about the incident, he’d been intrigued. When she’d agreed to join him on a hunt through the woods for the bridal bouquet flowers, he’d been encouraged. When she’d given him that beautifully submissive whisper, he was a fucking goner. Just like that, a piece of his spirit plunked out into her gorgeous little palm—
And had remained there for the last seven months.
“Shit.”
The self-directed oath blasted him out of the memory like an air horn. In an instant, he opened his eyes to the current suckage that was his life. The mist, the trees, and the once-upon-a-time forest were gone, leaving a Mexican Desert sunset that matched the battlefield in his head. Orange, red, and yellow shot at each other past billowing cloud boulders. It was over thirty-eight degrees Celsius, which sounded a lot better than a hundred Fahrenheit. It was well over that inside his boots and BDUs.
He slumped against one of the unit’s mud-caked Hummers.
Every minute of the last seven months suddenly weighed on him like lead.
Could it be because you’ve fixated too many times on that kiss, dumbass, and not enough on what came after it?
Oh, yeah. All that. Never mind that thanks to the criminal who crashed the wedding, he’d ended that day in battle gear and a debriefing instead of in his dress blues, hogging every dance with her. And the rest, what came after? He forced himself to remember that, too. The phone calls she never picked up. The texts she never answered. Even the acknowledgement that never came after he sent her a goddamn florist’s shop worth of birthday flowers.
“Fuck.”
He muttered it before dropping his head between his shoulders. A glance in the Hum’s rearview showed that he looked as defeated as he felt. Thick dust transformed his nearly-black hair into a weird blond. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with grime, his lips dry as a concrete gargoyle’s.
He was tempted to laugh. If only all those talent scouts and modeling agents, always ready with the business cards and glam offers, could see him now. Because the best hunk of the minute was the guy covered in five inches of dirt, ten inches of rage, and fifteen inches of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-myself, right?
Behind him, the creak of a rusty door sliced the humid air. The shack to which the portal belonged nearly collapsed from the movement, a strangely appropriate symbol of the interrogation that had taken place inside. Ethan grimaced. Nothing like the sound of a grown man’s sobs to kill the lure of humor, appetite, or any hope of forgetting about the head fuck he’d just performed on the poor shithead.
“Bernardo, it’s been a pleasure.” Every word of the cordiality was dipped in Rhett Lange’s distinctive mix of highbrow London and cocky New York. Ethan almost expected the man to whip out a party bag stuffed with plastic favors but knew better. A month back, Rhett had used the same tone before dicing up a double agent’s gut.
“Chupa mi pito, Captain America,” wailed the guy who stumbled from the shack behind Rhett. His wrists were still secured behind his back with plastic cuffs. When he lifted his tear-streaked face and noticed Ethan, he shuddered and cried harder. “You too, culero.” He spat in Ethan’s direction. “You and your devil word tricks. I curse you to the bowels of the hell you came from!”
Ethan parked his ass atop the Hummer’s front tire and flung his gaze to the dust. With a shitload of weariness, he mumbled, “Bernardo, my man, you may be on to something there.”
Pounding footfalls yanked his head back up. The stomps also came from the shack, now making the thing look like the San Andreas Fault was opening beneath it, as a third man emerged. Daniel Colton, whom they’d nicknamed CIA Ken in honor of his flawless haircut, ducked to avoid whacking his trademark locks on the shack’s awning before strolling free, thumbs hooked into his Dragon Skin vest, a chortle on his lips. “‘Devil word tricks?’ ‘Bowels of hell?’ Mui bueno, Señor Galvaz. Been catching up on your comic books between those heroin runs into California, huh?”
“Screw you, Colton. And your puta mother. And your whore of a sister.”
Ethan tensed some more. It took a lot to get Dan Colton riled but everyone knew the women in his life were sacred. The spook surprised him though, keeping his shit tight, pivoting back at Galvaz with enough smooth game to earn a spot on Usher’s back-up line. “My mama’s baking bread with the angels, mucha gracias for your concern. But I’ll thank you right now to refrain from the sister references, amigo. They’re not gentlemanly. Or wise.”
Bernardo glowered. “Or what? You gonna come after me, big bad spy man?”
Colton let out a long, low growl. “She’ll come after you, little narco.”
“Bah. Just keep centerfold boy away from me.”
Ethan kept his stare locked on the ground. The heroin dealer had laughingly given him the nickname when they’d started the interrogation this morning, and nobody had suggested a revisi
on. The call was correct. When a prisoner thought he was nothing more than a set of dreamy blues, some lucky bone structure, and a well-worked pair of biceps, it made his mental scalpel that much easier to use. Less painful for everyone concerned.
And then there were the exceptions—like Bernardo. Guys who resisted every cut, making his job a sheer hell. He’d had to slice deep today, digging into emotional marrow he hadn’t expected. By the time the dealer had finally spilled, weeping his way through the details they needed to stop the truckload of heroin and illegal guns bound for the states tonight, Ethan had staggered to the shack’s sink and scrubbed himself from fingertips to elbows. Not that it helped. Washing the dirt of a man’s soul off your own wasn’t something you did with rusty water. It was barely something you did with holy water. He should know. He’d tried.
Are you seriously pulling a pity party about this, dickface? You were the one who joined this machine to feel more valuable and connected to the world, remember? To feel like you mattered beyond your pretty face and your prettier checkbook, right?
Guess he’d just stepped into a pile of the world’s biggest lesson-learned-the-hard way. Careful what you wish for, shit-for-brains.