by Leslie North
Working his shaft with one hand, she sucked the tip of his length between her lips again, harder this time, more insistent, drawing his passion to greater heights with each lick. If she kept this up, he wouldn’t last long. Tightness gathered in his lower back, spreading to his groin as his release approached.
Vann tightened his fingertips against her scalp in warning. “I’m gonna come.”
His panting voice sounded needy, even to his own ears, but he couldn’t feel bad about that right now. Not with her amazing lips and tongue on his body, bringing him the ultimate pleasure. Normally, he kept a tight rein on his emotions, kept control under any costs. But now…. Now all he wanted to do was let go.
“Suyeta…” he said again, trying to pull her off him, but she only sucked him harder, deeper. “Ah…. Oh, shit! I’m going to come, Mercy. I’m—”
Words failed him as his orgasm hit hard. He growled, frightening the birds nesting nearby and sending them into flight. Slowly, he came back to himself, staring at the overcast sky above, light drizzle coating and cooling his fevered skin, and Mercy gazing up at him with such affection in her beautiful turquoise eyes. He bent to kiss her, slipping back into the water to take her into his arms and hold her close. Hardly a virgin, he was used to sex being a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” affair, never getting too close, never getting too involved. But this….
Other than his vision quest and a few pow-wows he’d visited with his dad back in the day, being out here with Mercy, he now felt connected to everything; not just his beloved nature. He felt one with humanity as well as the birds and the trees and the land he loved so much.
She shivered against him and he frowned.
“Cold?”
Mercy nodded. “A little.”
He took her hand and kissed it, then swam with her over to the small waterfall. “Let’s get cleaned up and get back to camp then.”
As Vann helped Mercy wash her hair under the waterfall and she did the same for him, he started to think perhaps that these days in the wilderness with her hadn’t been a total loss. They learned more about each other, beyond just the physical, and she seemed a bit more confident now, at least in certain areas. His Mercy was a thinker, something Vann could totally understand. He was the same way, though being in the SEALs had forced him to learn to develop his physical skills as well. His thoughts snagged.
Wait.
My Mercy?
Vann’s hands stilled in her dripping wet curls, a frown forming.
This had all been about sex, hadn’t it? All about creating stronger, better connections through opening up and advancing their spiritual bonds. He’d never intended to get attached to her. Mercy wasn’t his, was she?
“What’s wrong?” she asked, twisting slightly to peer over her shoulder at him. “Vann?”
He started to formulate a lie, something to throw her off the scent of his inner turmoil, when a loud cracking noise issued in the distance, followed by a deafening roar. His heart stopped, started, and then stumbled over itself like a drunken sailor. Last time he’d heard a noise like that had been in the Laos jungle. One of the earthen dams the local villagers had built broke, sending a torrent of water downstream and flooding everything in its path. The roar grew closer and his mind went into overdrive. The local vineyards built earthen dams for their irrigation systems. He’d seen them this morning on his patrol. They’d looked solid enough, but that storm had dumped a lot of rain and these flatlands were highly susceptible to flash flooding during the rainy season.
“Fuck!” Shifting into SEAL mode, his movements automatic, he grabbed Mercy by the waist and hoisted her higher up on the rock wall in front of them. “Find a place and hang on tight.”
She gave him a flat stare. “Seriously? I get that you don’t want me to quit the program, but is now really the appropriate time to replay Mercy’s greatest failures?”
Climbing up the wall beside her, he curled his fingers and toes tight into crevices in the stone and said a silent prayer to the gods of nature around him, her words barely penetrating the determined fog in his brain. “There’s a flood coming. You let go, you’re dead.”
“What? I don’t—” The roaring rush grew louder then and her eyes widened. “Oh shit! You’re not kidding are you?”
“I wish I was, suyeta.” He wanted to hold her close and keep her safe, but she was better off where she was and alone at this point. “Whatever happens, whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Water tumbled toward them, invading their private sanctuary and barreling over trees and all the vegetation in its path. Vann managed to work his hand over to where Mercy’s clutched the rocks to make physical contact with her. “You can do this. You’ll be okay.”
“Stop telling me what I can and can’t do!” she screamed at him over the cacophony around them, her tone shrill with panic. “I’m naked and clinging to a rock. I never should’ve come here. Never!”
Frigid water slipped higher and higher up the wall, covering their legs and hips and waists. When it reached Vann’s chest he knew it would be near Mercy’s neck. Doing his best to keep her calm, he called. “Just breathe, suyeta. It should all be over soon.”
“It’ll be over because I’m dead!” Her knuckles were white from the pressure of her fingers on the rocks and even Vann was having a hard time battling the currents swirling around them threatening to drag them under. Mercy’s fingers beside him slipped from the slick rocks and she screamed. “I can’t! Vann, help!”
Before he could grab her, the water swept Mercy from the rock wall and dragged her beneath its churning surface. Vann reacted without thought, instantly diving under the water, searching for her in the bubbling, murky, debris filled depths. With the flooding, the river had swollen to eight, maybe ten feet. Branches scratched at his skin, a log smashed into his leg and cut deep. Crimson oozed into the water around him, and he swore to the gods if he could just find Mercy and save her, he’d never go near the water again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted her foot, tangled in vines and branches from the underbrush carried along by the rushing water. He grabbed hold and used the last ounce of oxygen in his burning lungs to drag her to the surface. Her face was gray and her lips were turning blue, but she was still breathing though her eyes were closed.
Slowly, Vann pushed through the muck toward the shore and managed to haul Mercy and himself from the churning water. Exhausted and injured, he flopped onto his back and inhaled deep. Beside him, Mercy sputtered and coughed, moaning slightly as she tried to sit up. He placed a hand on her naked chest, savoring the steady, reassuring pound of her heart as he forced her to stay put. “Wait, I need to rest a minute,” he said.
Her blue gaze looked unnaturally bright as she scanned his body then gasped. “You’re hurt.”
He leaned up on his elbows and glanced down at his bleeding calf. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but he’d suffered worse in combat. Vann wiggled his toes then sighed. Not broken, thank goodness, but the cut would probably need a few stiches once they got back to the compound. He forced himself up to unsteady feet and glanced around. Their towels were gone along with their shoes, so they’d be hiking back to camp soaking wet and barefoot.
Given their proximity to the river, he wasn’t hopeful about the chances of their tent surviving, but with luck perhaps they might find their backpacks along the way at least. He held out his hand to Mercy. “C’mon. We need to get back to camp.”
Thankfully, she didn’t argue this time, just took his hand and let him help her up. As she stood before him, he did a quick assessment of her. Her hair stuck up at odd angles around her head, full of sticks and leaves. There was a scrape on her cheek and a bruise on her left shoulder, but otherwise she looked okay. “Are you all right? Anything broken or sprained?”
She gave an all over body shake. “No. Other than permanent mental scars from this experience, I think I’m good.”
The snark in her tone made him grin, despite their dire circumstances. If she
could still crack jokes, her spirit was still intact. “Right. Let’s head back then.”
Flooding had all but obliterated the trail they’d used to find the pool, but it had also coated the ground with a smooth layer of mud to protect their bare feet. Most of the younger saplings had been uprooted during the deluge, leaving only the sparser older trees behind, which also helped to clear a path. About halfway back to camp, Vann spotted one of his T-shirts and a pair of track pants snagged on the branches of a battered bush. He gave the shirt to Mercy to put on and tugged the pants on himself. The material clung to the blood clotting on his leg and made him hiss with pain, but at least they now had some protection against the elements. Rain had started pelting their battered bodies and the wind picked up again as they neared camp.
Just as he’d expected, everything was gone. No tent, no supplies, no phone.
Nothing.
Mercy cursed loud then sniffled.
Vann, still in SEAL survival mode, responded in true military fashion, his voice harsher than he’d intended. “No crying.”
“I’m not crying.” Mercy jerked her hand away from his. “I’ve got something in my eye.”
“Tears won’t help us get out of this situation.”
“No shit!” She stomped over to where their fire pit had been, scowling. “A little sympathy would be nice though.”
“Fuck sympathy. We need to get back to the compound.” The longer he stood on his injured leg, the worse the ache became. Perhaps that log had nicked his bone, in which case, he needed medical attention stat. Medical attention he wouldn’t receive standing in the middle of the flatlands commiserating over what shit luck they had. Tension and dread swelled inside him and escaped as irritation. “Take my hand and let’s go.”
“Jesus! Could you be any more of a smug prick?” She swiped the back of her hand across her wet cheek, leaving a smear of mud behind. “We’ve just been through a traumatic experience. I almost died.”
Teeth gritted against the pain in his calf, Vann grabbed her arm none too gently and tugged her beside him as he limped back toward Brothers in Arms. “Your risk of dying from exposure increases the longer you stand out here. No almost about it. Now come on.”
They’d made it about five hundred feet when Vann came across the earth dam that had broken. The whole center had been smashed and there were footprints nearby, suggesting it hadn’t been an accident at all.
Vann hobbled closer and peered at the tracks. There were two sets again identical to the ones he’d seen on his patrol earlier. The first set was the same military-issue combat-boot imprints he’d spotted around the borders of Brothers In Arms. The second though had a different and distinctive sole marking complete with a manufacturers imprint—expensive, custom-made, the same as the footprints he’d seen near the Rigsdale mansion the night they’d gone to rescue Mark. The same night Tim Rigsdale had been murdered. Meaning his hunches were most likely correct. The dam rupture had been no accident. Someone was out to get him just like they’d gone after Mark. Just like they’d gone after the other ex-SEALS who hadn’t been fortunate enough to survive like he and Mercy. “Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?” Mercy said, her voice guff with exhaustion.
He hurried back to her side, and took her hand again. “We need to get back to the compound. Now.”
12
“What the hell are you doing now?” Mercy asked, not even trying to keep the irritation from her tone. They’d been walking through these godforsaken flatlands for what seemed like forever and she was tired. So goddamned tired. And hungry. And thirsty. And if she lived to be one-hundred, she’d never, ever complain about shoes pinching her feet again. She’d give her right arm for a pair of shoes right about now. Meanwhile, Vann was lying on the ground ahead of her, his ear pressed to the earth and his eyes closed. She knew he was supposed to be some kind of tracker extraordinaire, but this was getting ridiculous. She tapped her bare toes against the hard, stony ground, exhausted annoyance fizzing through her system.
At first Vann didn’t answer, just laid there like a corpse. Then he peeked one eye open and gave her a flat glare. “I’m trying to take a nap, if you’d shut the hell up.”
Bastard!
His snort of laughter only served to piss her off more as she walked right over the top of him and kept on going. “Not funny. Fuck you, Vann Highrider. I’ll make my own way back.”
He cursed under his breath and scrambled to his feet, limping up beside her. “It was a joke.”
“A bad one.”
“Maybe.” He reached over to take her hand, but she pulled away. “You need to toughen up, suyeta.”
“Perfect.” She crossed her arms and stomped forward, only to stop and scowl as she stubbed her toe on a tree root. “Fuck! I officially hate camping.”
“Too bad. Camping doesn’t hate you.”
With her last nerve frayed, Mercy slowly turned to face him, her nostrils flaring. “Listen, bud. I’ve had it with your new age, hippie-dippy positivity nature bullshit. I get that you’re some kind of wizard Cherokee shaman able to tame Mother Nature and channel her energies in a single bound, but I’m not like that, okay?” She swallowed hard against the sadness welling inside her over the statement. Because, for a brief shining moment when she’d been in his arms, holding him close, she’d thought that yeah. Maybe she was like that too. Sighing, she forced herself to keep going, to lock her aching heart away tight behind her anger and pain. “Look, I’m a city girl, a born and bred New Orleans gal. I like my cushy apartment in the Garden District. I like my espresso and beignets in the morning. I frigging adore Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuitton! I can kick ass in a boardroom and run the tightest ship you’ve ever seen in my offices. But I am not now, nor will I ever be, an outdoor woman. Deal with it!”
She swiveled on her heel and walked away, the sound of his deep, long sigh trailing behind her.
“All I wanted was for you to bring that same confidence to the program,” Vann called to her.
“Yeah,” she turned around, walking backward as she spoke, her heart aching with anger and regret and unshed tears stinging her eyes. She refused to let him see her cry. Not now. Not ever again. “All I wanted was to know you slept with me for something more than to keep your business going.”
“Shit!” The color drained from Vann’s tanned cheeks and deep inside Mercy knew she’d gone too far, but it was too late to take back her words now. Not that she would. She’d meant what she said and yeah, she’d had sex with Vann knowing the score. It was just that, sex. Hell, they hardly knew each other, really. But just because it was sex, didn’t mean Mercy wouldn’t wish for something more.
Stupid. I am so stupid.
Something sharp bit into the sole of her foot and she yelped, hopping around to see what it was. Blood dripped from the fresh cut on her foot and her frustrated tears spilled over, scalding her cheeks.
“Goddammit.” Vann stalked over and scooped her up in his arms grumbling under his breath as he barreled forward across the open expanse of land between them and the compound. “I hate being out in the open like this.”
Despite his strong hold, Mercy linked her hands behind his neck and held on tight. The usual tingles of awareness between them sparked through her before she tamped them down. This wasn’t some romantic groom sweeping his bride across the threshold. In fact, he was toting her around with all the affection of a sack of mulch. Her chest squeezed tighter, remembering how sweet, gentle and loving he’d been with her just hours earlier at the pool. Now, she wanted him to suffer as much as she was, to ache like she ached. “Why do you care about being out in the open, huh? Think of it as another freaking vision quest.”
His arms squeezed her tighter and his expression grew dark as a thundercloud. “For your information, that flood back there was no accident. Someone sabotaged that dam and broke it. The same someone, I suspect, who sabotaged our facilities and damn near killed my business partner. Whoever is responsible is still out ther
e, most likely watching us. Since you’re with me, you’re now at risk too.” Each word was bit out, rapid as machine-gun fire. “As you are incapable of defending yourself, I can’t track them like I want. So pardon me if I’m a bit pissed off, Mercy Conde. I would have expected a successful businesswoman such as you would have more self-respect and self-confidence and fewer excuses.”
Well, shit.
Mercy opened her mouth to respond, but Vann gave her a warning look.
“Don’t. Don’t say another word until we get back to the compound. I’m so pissed off right now; I’m libel to say something I’ll regret.”
She snorted and looked away. “Like you haven’t already.”
“No, I haven’t. Every word I just said is the truth. The worst part of all of this is that I actually believed in you, Mercy Conde. Against all my instincts and my better judgment. I thought somehow, someway, if I tried hard enough, I could make you believe in yourself too.”
Swallowing hard, Mercy frowned. Fresh tears stung her eyes, not from frustration this time but sadness. He’d believed in her? Past tense. “But you don’t anymore?”
“I’m done, Ms. Conde.” She winced at his return to her proper name. No more suyeta. No more chosen one. “Done believing in lost causes. Done trying to convince people of things they can’t see for themselves. Done.”
The finality of his tone broke her already shattered heart into a million pieces. She was done too. Done trying to be something she wasn’t to win a job her parents probably would never have given to her anyway. What little confidence in her abilities she’d gained during her time at Brothers In Arms vanished. Vann was right. For all her bravado in business, she had zilch when it came to herself. No sense pretending otherwise now. She sniffled and stared ahead at the horizon, the outline of the compound buildings just now becoming visible.
He was right about something else too. As soon as they got back, she would pack up and head back to New Orleans where she belonged.