When he called her over with a tilt of his head she moved her ass, unprepared for another battle or to see those arms in action. The roller coaster of emotions over the last thirty minutes left her bone weary. As she cleared the island, her steps slowed and renewed energy coursed through her body. Saliva pooled in her mouth, better used exploring his body. The lips of her sex bloomed an invitation. The beat of her heart accelerated to the point of pain. Every gauge in her body blinked red. Warning. Danger. Run. Never before had she approached a man who saw through her as though she were his personal looking glass.
He held a clean, tanned hand out for her injury. Her eyes riveted on thick scar tissue bisecting the girth of his palm. It splayed like a red spider, a lump at the center with fissures sprawling in nearly every direction. She found his gaze and stilled her hand inches from his.
“It’s okay.”
Piper didn’t know what he referred to, but the reassurance gave her the muster to move again. Before she could stop herself, the tips of her fingers skimmed the dune of pink marring his wide, callused hand. She slid along the scar until it ran over the edge and their palms met in an intimate handshake.
The shock of contact reverberated around the room like the concussive waves of detonation. His Adam’s apple bobbed on a deep swallow, telling her he felt it too. The pad of his thumb danced over the back of her hand. Her nerve endings wept at the tenderness. The heat she could handle, but the care speared too close to the center of her heart.
“I can’t…I can clean it myself,” she fumbled.
He tugged her against his side. “You’re right handed and probably wouldn’t clean it well enough to stave off infection. It’d be a shame to lose your shooting hand.”
“It hasn’t gotten infected yet.”
“How long has it been like this?”
“Two months. Give or take a couple of weeks.”
The pack of weapons and ammo strapped to his torso gave a few inches of cushion. Still, the closeness pinged out her sensors, until he put her wrist under the water. The irritating sting she’d lived with over the course of her captivity was a gnat bite compared to this rattlesnake strike. Her eyes watered of their own volition. She tried to blink the tears away, but the bastards rolled down her cheek.
“How’d you manage to keep it clean for so long?”
“Gabrone took care of me.”
“I’ll bet he did.” The words growled from his throat.
“Not like that. He had a weird fixation and wanted me willingly. He didn’t want anyone else to have me either. It worked to my advantage.”
“What’s an LA cop doing in the middle of a Mexican cartel’s human trafficking ring?” The slanted gaze he flashed over his shoulder ruffled her already disheveled feathers.
“I’m not dirty, if that’s what your expression implies.”
Ryan placed her raw wrist back under the flowing water and scrubbed.
“Son of a puta. Que te den.” She screamed the insults and clamped onto the thick base of his bicep with her free hand.
“If you keep talking like that, when I’m done here I’ll have to scrub your mouth out.”
Piper clamped her lips between her teeth and howled at the ceiling. When she ran out of breath she refueled. “Sadomasochist.”
“I take no pleasure in your pain. Or my own.” His gaze found hers then dropped to his arm where her nails bit into his skin. “But I have enjoyed your gyrating hips.” His dimple flashed before he turned and got back to work.
Focusing on her breathing and not moving a muscle, Piper survived the next thirty seconds by force of will. Ryan turned off the water, stepped back, and revealed her hot-pink wrist. She looked as though she had a raw strip steak for a bracelet. Very unfashionable. Very disgusting.
“Hold it up and don’t touch it.” He turned to the first aid kit and pulled out several packages of gauze, tape, and salve. “I’m sorry it hurt, but I had to remove all the dead skin. I’ll change your bandage again tomorrow, before we go to war.
“Are you prepared for it? Because that’s what it’s going to be—an all-out battle. You and me against all of them. Plus, we have twenty or more innocents to keep out of harm’s way.” A long exhale curved the edge of his mouth into a frown and his gaze returned to hers. “If the Sinaloa use them as shields, if they all die, can you handle it?”
Piper couldn’t answer. Was she willing to risk twenty lives for one? Her mind said, “No.” But her fissured heart said, “Yes.” And for once, her heart would win out over her head. Ryan’s hand warmed the sensitive skin under her bicep as he pulled her toward him. They stood imbued in silence, mingling uneasy breaths.
Caught in his heat, her lips fell open in wild invitation and waited. Her momentarily reckless heart galloped behind her breasts. She longed for him to yank her against the hard metal weaponry strapped to his chest. To seize her mouth with his own painted lips. To smudge the already spent camouflage over her face and neck. To make her forget it all for a little while.
His searing gaze alighted on her mouth and he pulled her closer still. The other hand spread across the column of her neck, heating through to her aching core. His fingers skated up her keen flesh, burning a path over the ledge of her chin. The pad of his thumb swept across her top lip then into the wet edge of her lower on its way back.
He nestled his scarred palm behind her ear and burrowed his fingers in her hair. His powerful hand aligned their gazes and his lips fell open. “The absence of something, a father, a lover, doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.”
Piper struggled at his gut-twisting words, pushing against the hulking rounds of his shoulders with all her might. His hands twisted in her hair and firmed on her arm in a latch similar to that of a mating lion. Her nipples peaked beneath the fabric of her cotton tank, and she hated her traitorous body as much as the man inciting the reaction.
“Shhh,” he crooned.
Her chest heaved in pants that soaked her panties through and left her light headed. But her struggle ceased at his easy command. His gaze roved her face, burned her chest, and caressed her shorts-clad legs. The muscles in his neck and jaw flexed, and his nostrils flared in an unmistakable sign of lust. She couldn’t see past his full vest, but his hard length, cuddled against the joint of her thighs, made her wish she could speak to beg.
He tugged her head forward and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t know what you’re after, but if you look at me like that again, you’re going to get something you’ve not bargained for. My fuck em’ and flee days are over and my true sexual proclivities require your total surrender. Something I doubt you’re willing to give.”
His exhale washed over her breasts, making her wish she were capable of such yielding. But her mother hadn’t raised her to cow to anyone, especially a man. Sierra Vega taught her to fight for what she wanted. To hold her head up through a storm. To never lose sight of what was important in life. Family.
“Tomorrow we’ll set up an ambush that will keep the people safe. So, unless you can see yourself on your knees before me with your head bowed, after I bandage your wrist, I suggest you go to the first bedroom upstairs, shower, and sleep. We have a couple of long days ahead of us.”
8
Mark that shit down in a record book.
Never in his life had Ryan sent a wildly beautiful and willing woman from his arms. But fuck, he owed it to himself to get what he needed from a relationship. Cold couplings with women who didn’t possess the strength to handle his desire were a thing of the past. His days of club play were behind him too. The Dungeon had satisfied part of his need, but left him as cool as the others in the end. Too bad the woman slamming stuff around in the room over his head wasn’t relationship or submission ready. She stirred a protective instinct inside him that boggled his mind and balls.
Ryan pulled the satphone from his ruck and dialed Base. “Sierra. Hotel. Echo. Papa. Hotel. Echo. Romeo. Delta. One. Nine. Nine. Six.”
After a series of beeps, an o
perator answered. “Voice confirmation complete. Agent Noble, how may I direct your call?”
“Commander Tucker, please.”
“What’s wrong?” Tucker answered.
“Extraction’s blown.”
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Compromised?”
“No, but I’d like to be.”
“Spill it, Noble.”
“They had a prisoner. An a—”
“Put Ruez in interrogation. And check our other teams.” Though he’d covered the phone with his hand, Tucker’s holler filled the line. The connection rustled again. “The place is supposed to be clean for two weeks.”
“She’s American. An unusual case. Former L.A.P.D. Allowed herself to be caught for information. I need to know what she’s after.”
“Name?”
“Piper is all I have so far. There’s something else.” Ryan’s thumb increased its beat on the end of the magazine at the front of his pack.
“No shit,” Tucker huffed. “Otherwise, you’d have tossed her on your back and made it to the damn HELO as ordered.”
“Yes, sir. They’re expecting a shipment Monday. We’ll need on-site extraction for thirty-five at 0400” Shit, he hated disappointing people. But the truth was, if he’d left the shipment, the people, behind, he’d have disappointed himself more. So, he had Piper to thank for this misadventure.
“I’ll send Khani on the Chinook with a couple of old friends. But you know I can’t give you on site pick-up. I’m squashing too many international laws as it is. All I can give is five miles from the coast. Your drop location.”
“Yes, sir.”
Over the next two hours Ryan poured his angst and agitation into cleanup. He stuffed the seven bodies scattered about the house into the Suburban in the garage. The three at the perimeter he propped into the Jeep since they’d be “on guard” when the cargo arrived in the wee hours of the morning. He took special care wrapping the seatbelt across Big ’Un’s chest and around his neck. Before heading inside he closed the door to Piper’s prison and scooped the broken handle from the dirt. He molded the metal in his hand and hoped they’d make it stateside without a small metal box.
9
Piper twirled a damp lock of hair and peered through the slit of the vinyl blinds. Ryan jostled the knob he’d broken off the guesthouse in his palm. His hard, tender, far too welcoming palm. At least this time those hands didn’t carry a dead body. He turned with the handle in tow. A slow, sexy saunter swayed his hips. Her body warmed in appreciation. She found herself on tiptoes as he neared the porch and obscurity. A step from it, he stopped, lifted his chin, and touched two fingers to his brow before disappearing into the house.
“Shit. Pure stealth, Vega.”
She tossed the gentle curl over her shoulder and let her finger fall from the window dressing. Her ears pricked at the vibration from the closing door and the tread of his heavy boots through the living room. He wanted her to know where he was. Earlier he hadn’t made a whisper until the knock resonated on the bathroom door. She hadn’t heard his retreat either. Only the shoes Gabrone confiscated from her upon capture, sitting outside the steaming room, proved he’d been there at all.
The footfalls rumbled up the stairs, and her heart stood at attention along with her nipples. She tried pressing the offending flesh down, but only aggravated the problem. His treads died just outside her door and Piper wondered if she could submit to a man, just in the bedroom, just once. Her breath quieted in her lungs as she waited for his knock.
Moments collected then overflowed, forcing her to take a breath or pass out. Her hands rung the hem of the oversize T-shirt she’d taken from the closet. Finally her reserve broke. Piper rushed to the door and grabbed the handle. She hoped he’d be there, but fully expected he’d swung past to check on her then spirited away as he’d done before.
She wrenched the knob from the frame and skidded to a halt, her hair fanning out over her shoulders before swinging back against her sensitive, cotton-covered breasts. A smile quirked his mouth and suddenly a blush of foolishness heated her cheeks. The son of a bitch had waited intentionally, making her come to him. Not that he had that kind of power over her. She’d come because she wanted to. Plain and simple. She wanted to see him again. And now that she did, her brain short-circuited.
The ammunitions pack, assault rifle, ruck, and BDU top all hung from his left hand. A desert-brown tee stretched to accommodate his sinewy torso, pulling taut over his wide shoulders and full chest before tapering to his waist, clinging to every defined abdominal muscle. Sweat dripped from his chin, soaking the already drenched material.
“Since you’re still awake…” The hollow of his dimple grew and she wanted to slam the door in his self-assured face.
When he didn’t continue she hollered, “What? Since I’m still awake, what?”
He bit his lip. The smile he gave was an all-out assault on her self-preservation. “I was hoping you’d stand watch while I grab a shower.”
It was all she could do to keep from sputtering, ‘No, I’d rather sit on your face and rub that smirk off of it.’ Damn the smile and the man. He sure knew how to bring a girl to her knees. Instead, she said, “Sure. Not like I’ll be sleeping anytime soon anyway.”
“Here. Do you know how to use this?” He lifted an AK-47 from the door jam and handed it over.
“Yeah, you want me to show you?”
“Nah. You have a malevolent little gleam in your eye and I’d prefer my middle not look like a sieve.” He stepped back and turned down the corridor. “Your window perch is a great look-out spot. I don’t expect company, but let me know the moment you even think you see something. Oh, and here.” He pulled a monocular from his pack and tossed it. “Nice catch.”
“I can juggle too. I’m here all night. Don’t forget to leave a tip.”
“You keep pushing me and I’ll give you a tip, all right.” His blue eyes flashed white-hot before he turned and continued down the hall.
Piper guessed he was talking about the tip of his cock. That notion combined with the rippled view of his cloth-covered back flushed her cheeks sauna hot. How dare he leave her scorching and far past bothered? She stomped back inside the room and slammed the door. Before the wood quit shuddering, she turned the lock. A lock wouldn’t keep him out, but it would send a message. She took up post at her eagle’s nest and dared any of those sons-of-bitches to show their face.
He took the longest shower in the history of man. And her mind’s eye had no problem picturing him sluicing the dirt from swollen muscles or taking pleasures with his own body. She’d worked herself into a fuckable frenzy by the time she heard his boots on the tile floor. He paused in front of her bedroom. With anticipation slicked hands she set the night-vision field glass on the floor and rested the gun against the wall at the window before turning toward the strip of light seeping beneath the door.
“Get some sleep,” he barked, and then shuffled down the stairs.
“Seriously? Not even a, ‘Hey have you given any thought to that whole submission thing ‘cause I've got a boner the size of California you could practice with.’ Fuck.”
Piper fell face-first onto the mattress and growled. After expelling all the air from her lungs, she crawled to the top and pummeled the pillow in a two-fold endeavor. Comfort and stress release. She curled into a ball atop the covers and tried to relish the soft mattress under her body and the oblivion of dark. For whatever reason, the prison light stayed on twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The incessant light had been more difficult to adapt to than the absent bed, and even the loss of freedom. But those had only been bearable because her imprisonment had a purpose. One the commando fucked with military precision.
10
Aryanna Noble’s serene and youthfully smooth face screwed tighter with each failed call. Her blue eyes met his and she smiled like a scarecrow. “Can you think of anyone else she’d visit?” Ryan could only shake his head. “A b
oy maybe? Oh, the Tuckers moved in next to Holly and they have a very handsome older son. Maybe they went to spy on him. I’ll try her house again.”
Blood pumped through Ryan’s veins like it was trying to escape. Like if it pumped fast enough it could flee his body and the nightmares plaguing him.
His mother inhaled through her nose and released a long breath and struggled to remain calm through her futile attempts to track her daughter’s whereabouts. His pre-pubescent whine droned, “Why’d we have to cancel the party? The goal’s ready and everything. All we needed was the cake. I hope Becca gets grounded forever.”
“Because your sister has been missing for three hours!” As the shrill words left her mouth the sky clouded. Lifeless gray overtook streaks of sunshine. Fat rain droplets pelted his face, soaked through his clothes. Ryan turned toward the house, but stopped short. His mom lay in a huddled ball on the concrete drive, sobbing. “No! Why? Rebecca!” The policemen stood over her, offering inadequate support.
God, he hated these dreams. Hated the distorted memories. No matter what he did, they never stopped. Every night his regret visited in one grizzly version or another. And, though he knew they weren’t real, he couldn’t seem to wake until the end.
Like every time before, his dad arrived in an all-out run, staring over Ryan’s head as if he didn’t exist. The man’s hair silvered as he skid on slick bottom wing-tips to his wife’s side. Only it wasn’t his wife anymore.
U.S. Senator Jake Noble rolled the limp body into his arms. Long blonde hair cascaded from his sister’s gaunt visage. Death-hazed eyes stared back. Lightning stained the sky a brilliant white and the rumble called forth a rain of bullets that peppered Rebecca’s body with hundreds of irreparable holes and their lives with hopelessness.
The scream he heaved in the dream never followed him into consciousness. Otherwise, they’d put him in an institution. But he could never escape the churn of his gut or the quake of his heart. Ryan leapt into reality and from the chair he used as a bed. Morning light filled the room, illuminating the barrel of his sidearm centered between Piper’s bite-sized breasts.
Stranger Mine: a Base Branch novel Page 4