“No worries, Commander.”
“You have the most amazing gift, Kayla.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you heading back to the hotel?”
She nodded.
“Have you had anything to eat yet tonight?”
“No. I’ll see you in the morning, sir,” She turned.
“Stop calling me sir,” he growled. She was his subordinate, and…Jesus Christ, she confused him. “What the hell do you want me to do? You walked out of your room this afternoon looking like a man’s absolute fantasy. You dumbfounded everyone, but me most of all.” He knew it came out like he was giving her hell, and he was, but she was driving him out of his fucking mind.
Her head shot up. Tears glistened so bright in her dark eyes they twinkled. She backed away from him as if she were scared of him. “What time should we be at the hanger?” she asked, her voice steady as ever.
Maybe she thought he couldn’t see her tears in the darkness, and maybe he’d let her keep thinking that. A crushing weight pushed down on his chest. “I’m going back to the hotel. Why don’t we grab a cab?” he suggested, trying to bring himself back in line. He wasn’t staggering drunk, but being with her in this condition was dangerous.
“I guess so,” she agreed quietly.
When they reached their rooms, and slid the cards into their respective locks he had never, ever in his life, had to use as much ball-busting willpower as he did in that second. All he had to do was get into his bloody room and lock the door. That was it.
“Good night, Commander.”
She looked so beautiful in that little halter top with the native designs and small beaded work running along the seams, accentuating her breasts, mounded within the tawny animal skin. He knew he was going to dream about her the entire night, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
He only wanted to see one person walk out of the darkness tonight, and when she did, he’d lost it. “Good night,” he said briskly, and slammed the door behind him. He rested his head against it, trying to calm the blood boiling inside him.
Air gusted from his lungs, breaking the silence. He walked to the other door joining their rooms. Laying his palm on it, he wondered if like fire, he could feel her heat through it. Unbuttoning his shirt, he yanked the hem from his pants. His shaft, swollen beneath the jeans he wore, needed release, and he opened the button and peeled the zipper, the waistband flopping over. “God help me, ” he muttered, shaking his head and closing his eyes as the minutes ticked by. A small tap on the door sent his heart into his throat.
“Commander, are you there? ”
“What's wrong, Kayla? ”
“Um, my alarm clock doesn’t work. I called down to the front desk, but they don’t have a spare. I put in a wake-up call, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind hammering on my door too. ”
His fingertips tingled reaching for the lock. A man’s guilty pleasure is his weakest link, the place where his mental armor is the thinnest and most vulnerable. He twisted the lock, and gave the door the tiniest pull. Standing in front of him, wearing a red satin negligee, clinging to every curve, he came face to face with his Achilles heel. Her beauty, her body, the essence of Kayla slammed into him like a rogue wave, and he knew he would never be the same man again.
* * * *
After thirty-six years of living, she never expected to be struck by lightning. Her mouth gaped as the door did. The Commander stood with his shirt unbuttoned, the heat in his eyes melting her into a puddle. His chest rolled with taut muscles, and his jeans sat low on his hips with the arch between his thumb and forefinger locked tight against his smooth flesh. The lean sinew threading his hips fired an overwhelming urge to follow it with her tongue. A ripple rolled through his abs, and she didn’t miss what poked its head from his pants, thick, hard, and needy.
“Kayla—” His jaw strained to a hard angle. “You have to close this door—now,” he breathed. His chest muscles flexed as if he were using every ounce of his will to restrain himself.
Closing the door without touching him would be harder than jumping out of a plane. Her arms slowly crossed and she gathered her negligee in her fingers, pulling it over her head and dropping it into a pool on the floor.
The Commander drew his breath through his teeth with a hiss, and his shaft jumped, thrusting from his pants. Gliding her hand down her skin, she imagined what his hands would feel like. Like a wild creature in heat, her moist cream began to wash down her thighs in little rivers. Thane’s gaze locked on her, sliding across her body, then his lids closed as if he were in pain.
A sharp little breath escaped her own lips when her fingers caressed her fold, covering them with silk. She reached out and slowly slid them across the slit on the head of his shaft, mixing it with the bulb of shiny moisture on the end.
His head whipped back and he groaned. “Oh, fuck, is that what you feel like?”
A burning look of heat shot through her, and his body jerked as if he was going to launch himself at her.
Loud voices cascaded down the hallway, announcing the team. She heard the lock on his door click open, accepting the Lieutenant’s card. She clutched the doorknob between their rooms, and snapped it shut, cutting them off from each other. Her heart banged so hard in her chest she saw stars. Taking a couple staggering steps backwards, the back of her knees touched the bed, and she collapsed on it.
What the hell had she done? Her gaze glued itself to the door, his image clear as if he were still standing there. The low rumble of voices ghosted through the wall, assuring her he was on the other side. Control yourself! The power and passion she’d seen in his eyes stampeded through her blood like a wild, thrashing animal destroying all the walls she’d erected to protect herself. She wanted him. Oh, God, she really wanted him.
She swiped her negligee from the floor, slipping it over her body and stepped to the door, her hand curled to knock on it.
Chapter Eleven
“Morning, Snow White,” Tony said, seeing her first.
“Morning, guys,” she greeted with a halfway chipper tone.
Mace stood up and pulled a chair from the next table, sliding it between him and Nathan. “Morning, Kayla,” he said, watching her carefully.
He’d politely thrown the brunette he’d met at the party out of his room after a romp in the sack last night. It had only left him four hours sleep, but he had enough adrenaline doing a zip trek through his veins to get him through the day, especially after talking with the Commander.
He’d just sat down for breakfast when the Commander came in shortly after. “Morning, sir.”
The Commander pored himself a coffee, took one sip and set his cup down, leaning across the table, he said, “If you fuck up today, and she gets hurt, even a bruise—your life with me will be a living hell, do you understand me, Mace?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, taking a bite out of his bottom lip. He’d seen him heated, angry, explosive, but he’d never seen deadly like he was seeing now. “Sir?”
“What?” he growled, taking a breath and sitting back in his chair, bringing his cup with him.
“You like her, a lot—don’t you, sir?”
“No, I don’t like her,” he snapped. “She’s my subordinate, my responsibility, and I’d have the entire base down my throat if something happened to her, never mind Red tearing a piece outta my ass.”
He nodded. “Soooo, how exactly do you explain kissing her last night like she was the love of your life if you don’t like her, sir?” At the same time, he wondered where he could find some soap because he was going to be washing down the Black Hawks this afternoon for sure.
The Commander gave him a “don’t push it” look.
“Sir, you said she was goddamned beautiful, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
The cup the Commander held came down with shattering clank. “I am only concerned about her welfare. She will be relying on you to see her safely to the ground. Keep alert, take precautions, extra ones if nece
ssary.”
He cleared his throat and refilled his cup. “Sir, you do realize she likes you, too?”
“For the love of God, Mace,” he rubbed his temple and let out a huge sigh. “Drop it.”
“Although I know I’m taking my life and serving it up on a to be annihilated platter, I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”
The Commander’s steely gaze bit into him like a bear trap. “I have my reasons, Petty Officer Callahan. If you haven’t noticed, our profession doesn’t bode well for survival or family.”
Mace took a long sip of his coffee. “Maybe not, sir, but a minute of love is better than going into the ground never feeling it.” The expression on the Commander’s face almost had him keeling over. Had he actually gotten through to this hard-assed man? It sure looked like he had, because the Commander’s expression had morphed into confusion, if not doubt, and the infamous Ghost never doubted himself.
The waitress sat their plates on the table. “Anything else I can get you?” she asked, turning her gaze to the Commander.
He didn’t even look at the beautiful woman when he gave his head one jerk to the negative. When the Commander followed Kayla last night, Mace had wondered whether something would happen between them, but his foul mood this morning told him the Commander was at war with himself, which meant that something almost happened.
Kayla brought him out of his thoughts when she patted him on the shoulder as she sat down. “Thanks, Mace.”
“Ho, someone’s looking a little hung over,” Fox said laughing, and picked up a pitcher off the table, filling her cup with coffee. “You’re gonna have the wind beneath your wings today, and more firewater in your veins tonight, little lady, so get some of this into you.”
The guys laughed at her when her head shot up at that comment. “What?” she crowed.
“Kayla, if you’re not Pocahontas’ daughter, I’ll eat a rattlesnake.”
Mace leaned into her. “Don’t bite on that one, he always eats snake. He’s a freak.”
She almost spewed her coffee. “Yuck, Fox, really?”
“What?” He lifted his hands in the air innocently. “It tastes like chicken.”
“Aw, God.” Kayla groaned, flattening a hand against her stomach.
“Ma’am, would you like some breakfast?” the waitress asked, appearing beside her.
The look on her face made the whole table bust a gut.
* * * *
Mace, Fox, and Tony spent the morning with her in non-stop training. They went over all the equipment three times, emergency maneuvers five times, and explained the type of chute known as a ram-air parachute they used for demonstrations. There was no playtime, and she sensed Mace was on edge. He explained the forward throw as they’d exit the plane, the landing roll, and made sure she understood that their landing would be like jumping from a height of eight feet. They covered terminal velocity and the freefall would be significant. Then he made her practice the landing roll using a four-foot platform until she did it perfectly.
“Mace.” She laid a hand on him when they took a fifteen minute break to get out of the blistering sun. “Are you okay?”
“Sure, Kayla, I just want to make sure there’s no screw-ups.”
Her brow wrinkled. “If you don’t want to take me, just say so. It’s all right.” She followed his eyes as they darted away from her.
He leaned back on his haunches. “No, I just want to be sure, that’s all.”
“You must have done this a hundred times. I can tell something is wrong, Mace. What is it?”
“Kayla, we’re jumping from eight thousand feet, things can go wrong. Chutes tangle. I’m just being cautious, okay?”
She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mace.” His head bowed immediately, and she could swear he was blushing.
She scanned the airfield. The Black Hawks had just taken off with other members of Team One. They were about to start the Fast Rope demonstration. The SEALs didn’t have the luxury of floating lazily to the ground. Years ago, a new technique had been invented—it was dangerous, but efficient when deploying from a helicopter. It meant sliding down a rope with no added safety measures—just the man, his equipment, and clutching the line with the pull of gravity until his boots hit the sand.
As her team geared up, she realized she had it easy, basically—she would be Mace’s gear. The team belted on their equipment, and the list was endless.
Her heart beat hard in her chest, but it began to flutter when she recognized the confident stride of Commander Austen as he crossed the tarmac toward them. He was suited up in full combat fatigues, helmet, shades, and his chute hung over his shoulder. Kayla swallowed hard, and although she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew he was looking at her. Mace lured her attention as he helped her into the harness she would attach to him before the dive.
When Mace looked up the Commander stood over them. He gave him a thumbs-up, and the Commander nodded.
The drone on the engines of the special ops aircraft couldn’t drown out the whirr of her heart.
“Ready to fly, Frogs?” Fox said in the headset hidden inside her helmet.
The “rogers” echoed in her set.
“Come on, Kayla, let’s put some wind beneath those virgin wings of yours,” Fox bellowed.
Although her legs filled with cement, she forced herself to turn and head toward the aft of the C-130.
“You’re going to do fine, Kayla,” Mace said, resting a hand on her shoulder as they walked up the ramp.
Lieutenant Cobbs barked out orders to the team, going over the demonstration one more time as the back door closed and the engines on the plane changed pitch, the aircraft beginning to move. Commander Austen sat on the jump seat across from her. Leaned over with his hands clasped, he concentrated on the metal deck. He hadn’t said a word to her, but what did she expect? More than likely the second they got back, she would be fired. Good sense had come to her a second before allowing herself to knock on his door last night. No good would ever come from them writhing in a sensual joining. In fact, it would ruin everything. She’d held position against the heavy current of need to be in his arms, paddling hard to stop her desires that wanted to suck her into a dangerous reef.
The plane left the ground and her heart turned into a piston with several misfires. Within seconds, they gained altitude. She looked out the small window across from her, and it certainly was a different kind of feeling knowing she wouldn’t be coming down the same way as she was going up—terrifying pretty much summed it up.
The pilot’s voice burst into her headset, “Two minutes to jump.”
Oh, God, could she actually do this? The guys all sported grins as they watched her, probably knowing her guts rolled like a cement truck.
“Goddammit,” the Commander barked in their ears. “Captain Holmes, take another pass.”
“Commander?” the pilot questioned.
“On your feet, Mace,” he ordered abruptly.
“Sir, what’s wrong?” Mace asked, getting to his feet as ordered.
“She’s jumping with me.”
Confusion replaced her nervousness. “What?”
“Mace, now,” he said gruffly.
Mace didn’t argue and they quickly exchanged equipment as the plane veered, taking another turn in the sky. The large door in the back began to open and the wind tore into the aircraft, pulling at everything with its force, sending the equipment into a chaotic dance. Mace and Fox attached her to the Commander, snapping on the clips, and making sure the harness was tight. It was then every drop of moisture evaporated from her tongue. Like Sherlock Holmes, she knew something was afoot, and she was pretty goddamn sure it was terror.
The rest of the men lined up, preparing to jump. She heard Thane release a gust of air as he wrapped his arms around her, nudging her toward the door. Her legs shook so badly she thought she would collapse.
His helmet touched hers, and even through all the clothes and gear, she felt him
squeeze her. “It’s just like making love, Snow White, let go and feel,” he said in a low voice, sending sparks ripping through her, squashing the fear and replacing it with desire.
“You’re clear,” the pilot said, but there was definitely humor in his tone. “Have a good orgasm, Snow White.”
“Very funny,” she muttered.
Cobbs gave the order to jump. The men took a few quick steps, just like she was told they would, and then vaulted from the plane.
“Ready?” the Commander asked, his voice reassuring and calm.
She nodded once sharply.
A quick laugh rumbled in her ear. “Let’s make love, Kayla,” and the Commander’s weight pushed against her as he held her protectively in his arms.
As they leaped from the plane, her heart leaped from her chest. They sliced through the air in the forward roll. She was along for the ride, and kept her eyes wide open, sensing the wind and the Commander around her as they flattened out. For forty seconds they fell free between heaven and earth, unencumbered—together. “Oh, Gawwwwd,” vaulted from her throat as if she were having the longest orgasm of her life.
The wind didn’t totally eradicate the chuckles she heard in her ear.
“You know how to treat a woman, Commander,” Cobbs said, followed by a bark of laughter.
“I’m not finished pleasing her yet.” His legs wound tight around hers. “Kayla, close your eyes.”
With a gentle arc of his body, he rolled them. The exhilaration sent a wild tingling through her body. “Do it again,” she said, opening her eyes wanting to see this time.
His low warm chuckle opened her heart, and this time she let her fear go and helped him. His large fingers forked through hers, and the ecstasy of trusting her life to his strength as they rolled came about as close to aeronautical orgasm as it could come.
“I’m going to open the chute, Kayla, you’re going to feel a jerk,” the Commander warned.
The chute deployed and she felt a hard jerk as the wind roared in her ears, and then the world went silent. They seemed to be falling fast now, and as if he knew her anxiety increased with every second he said, “Easy, Kayla. We’re good, sweetheart.”
Code Name: Ghost Page 13