by Cat Johnson
She slid her hand inside his pants and grabbed his cock, which was more than ready for some action. Any further thoughts flew out of his head the moment she wrapped her hand around his length. As surreal and ridiculous as the situation seemed, this was really going to happen. And he was going to let it happen and enjoy it too, because although he’d told her the truth—that his team would get them out—one question remained. Would it be a rescue mission or a recovery of their bodies?
Matt’s words echoed in his mind. Ten minutes. They didn’t have much time. He pushed down the neckline of her top. He pulled her breast out of the confines of her bra and covered one nipple with his mouth. She drew in a sharp breath and pressed closer, but Bull still couldn’t totally turn off his brain.
If the ten minutes expired and the tangos went for the detonator, would it be better to come out of the closet shooting and make a run for it, instead of sitting here and get blown up? But what if the bombers were lying and there was no bomb and Bull came out of the closet guns blazing? Most likely, both he and Marly would be shot in his attempt to escape.
That left Bull with one thing he was sure of. He was going to take her now, before all hell broke loose. He tried to wiggle his hand into the waistband of her stockings, but they were so thick and unyielding, he couldn’t move. “What the hell are these things you’re wearing?”
“Tights.”
They were tight, all right. It was bad enough he was restricted to the use of one hand because of the gun, he at least wanted free range of motion with his free hand. “Take them off.”
Of course, that would mean she’d be naked from the waist down when they were either rescued or killed. He considered if that really mattered or not.
“Tear the crotch.” Luckily she had a better solution as she stroked his cock.
That command made him groan. Now that she’d given him permission, he felt for the seam between her legs and poked through the weave with two fingers. He continued to push until he was inside her warm wetness. She groaned as he pressed deeper.
“Hush, baby. No noise.” He had to think that was easier said than done when she unzipped his pants and pulled his erection completely out of his underwear. She angled it toward her entrance.
“Not yet. You’re not ready.”
“I’m ready.” She panted close to his ear as he fucked her with his fingers. He added a third one, trying to stretch her to accommodate him.
“Believe me. You’re not.” He smiled at her enthusiasm.
She was already wet, but not wide enough to hold all of him yet. That he could remedy. Bull knew his hands were as good with women as they were with bombs. At least he’d been told so by more than a few happy females. Curling the fingers inside her, he found her G-spot, applied pressure and rubbed. He heard her breath catch in her throat. He worked it more and she began to tremble. Bull added his thumb. He circled her clit at the same time his fingers worked inside her. Marly’s breathing became more rapid against his ear.
She was getting close, he could tell even before she started to shudder.
“Oh, God. Bull.” She let out a stuttering breath against the ear with his implant.
“Aw, Jesus. Bull, please listen to me. We’re almost ready to go in. Please wait to be rescued. Get yourself a nice suite at the Hilton and fuck her there where I don’t have to hear it. Hell, I’ll even pay for the room,” Matt begged in his ear.
“How much time do we have left?” Bull asked. If Matt was going to intrude on this incredibly private moment, he might as well be useful.
“Five minutes and counting.”
Matt answered his question at the same time Marly said, “I don’t know. Hurry.” Then she stiffened over him. “That guy in your ear can hear us, can’t he?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?” He regretfully pulled his fingers from her and immediately missed her warmth. Ready to explode, he was willing to do a little begging himself if she said it was.
“I can live with it.” Her answer made Bull want to cry with joy. She grabbed for him again.
“Hang on one second, baby.” Wishful thinking on his part had made him stick one single condom in the inside breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket. He pulled it out now. He had to put down the gun to do it, but he had himself covered in seconds. “Okay, we’re good to go.”
She took his cock in one small hand and lowered herself over him. His tip nestled at her entrance. He covered her mouth with his and distracted her with his tongue while he spread her wide. He slipped just the tip inside. He moved slowly, not even an inch at a time. He’d slide in a little bit, and then back off, before he pushed in deeper. She stretched to contain him, so tight the struggle was exquisitely agonizing until he filled her completely.
In as far as he was going to get, he guided her hips with his hand, moving her in small circles against him as he ground his pelvis against her clit with every repetition. Within a few short moments, she started to shudder. Her breath came in short pants against his neck. The pleasure built inside him as she tightened her muscles to grip his cock inside her. The tiniest sound came from her throat as the orgasm broke over her. She pulsed around him. He felt every spasm intimately as she came in one long, powerful, silent orgasm.
Once he was convinced she could stay quiet, he let himself close his eyes and absorb all the sensations assaulting him. The incredible feel of her body surrounding him. Her muscles massaging his cock in a rhythm that had his balls drawing up tight, ready to release. The heat of her mouth pressed against his shoulder.
The spasms inside her stopped and she stilled in his lap. “You didn’t finish.”
He shook his head. No he hadn’t, but he really wanted to. She rested both hands on his shoulders and started to move up and down his length. She drew in a sharp breath. “Mmm. You’re huge.”
“Dammit, Bull. I hate you, do you know that?” Bull smiled at Matt until he added, “Two minutes and counting. The team is ready to go in if the FBI can’t stall them. Finish what you’re doing and stay hidden until we say to move. Don’t run out and get yourself killed. That’s the commander’s order. Copy?”
“Yes.” Two more minutes. He wished he could go on like this with her for two more hours. “Faster, baby.”
Marly did as he asked. As he felt the pressure building inside him, a tremor passed through her. She clung to his neck as her muscles convulsed again. This time, he went right along with her. He came deep inside Marly with the only regret being there was a definite chance they’d be dead in two minutes.
“Shit. Bull. Take cover! They said they’re gonna blow it.”
At Matt’s shout, Bull didn’t think twice. He picked up Marly, dumped her into the big old cast-iron bathtub he was more than grateful had remained in the room. He reached down and pulled the used condom off with a snap, flinging it into a corner before he grabbed her canvas harp cover off the floor. He dove into the tub on top of Marly and had just pulled the cover over them when a deafening explosion rocked the building.
Then there was nothing.
Chapter Six
“Well, well. Lover boy is awake. About time.”
Bull’s eyelids fluttered open. The light in the room hurt his head. He finally focused his vision on the figure sitting in a chair next to him. Matt, with a laptop. Bull frowned. “Why am I in bed?”
Matt put the computer down and leaned forward in the chair. “You’re in the hospital, big guy. Do you remember what happened?”
He glanced down and saw the IV tube taped to his arm. Realization dawned slowly. He was definitely in the hospital, but he had no memories of why or how. He took in a deep breath. It hurt. He’d felt that enough times before to know what it meant. Broken ribs, or at least badly bruised. He forced his brain to function. “The last thing I remember we were about to leave for that night training op against Kappa. What happened? Did we get in an accident with the van on the way there or something?”
Matt’s eyes opened wider. “Um, not exactly. You know, I think I’ll go
call the commander. He’s going to want to know you’re awake.”
“You better call Lana too. She’ll be worried that I didn’t call after the training.”
Matt’s brows rose. “All right. I’ll take care of all the phone calls. You just lie here and don’t worry about a thing. I got it covered.”
When Matt left to make the calls, Bull glanced around the room. How long had he been out of it? More importantly, what were the extent of his injuries? He tried to take a mental inventory, but it seemed as if everything ached. It must have been a hell of an accident, but Matt had looked fine.
Why didn’t Bull remember any of it? He glanced toward the end of the bed. His chart was probably down there somewhere. If he could only reach it. Lifting his head caused enough pain that he let it fall back against the pillow, but in his quest for his chart, he noticed something else. There was a huge red, white and blue bouquet of flowers on the windowsill and next to it, a card and a small stuffed bull.
He was still squinting, trying to read the card from the distance, when a nurse came in smiling. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was run over by a truck.” As he answered, he realized it was a definite possibility.
The nurse laughed. “Glad to see your sense of humor is working fine.”
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“A couple of days. The doctor will be in soon. He’ll answer all your questions.”
She was about to leave, but Bull wasn’t done with her yet.
“Wait. One more. Who are the flowers and the stuffed animal from?”
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t here when they were delivered. Would you like me to read the cards?”
He was about to nod when he realized it would hurt. “Yes. Please.”
She made her way to the window and plucked a small white card out of the gigantic arrangement. The damn thing must have cost a fortune. It barely fit on the windowsill. “This is just a signature. It looks like John Dickson III.”
Bull frowned. “The senator’s son?”
“I’m not sure. Could be.” She shrugged. “Do you know him?”
“Not personally, no. What about the other things?”
She picked up the greeting card and opened it. “Bull, I owe you for my life. Get better. I couldn’t stand it if I owed you for yours too. Marly.” The nurse looked up and smiled. “Your girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t know any Marly. That’s all it says?”
The nurse glanced down again. “There looks like a phone number written here below the signature.” She carried the card to him and he grunted in pain as he raised his arm to take it. He tried to turn his head to see the side table but decided the effort wasn’t worth it. “Do I have a phone?”
The nurse pushed a rolling table with a phone in front of him. He raised his hand to dial and grimaced as he did.
“Want me to dial for you?” She smiled her happy, nurse smile.
He leaned back heavily against the pillows. “Please.”
She dialed and propped the receiver on the pillow against his ear. “I’ll give you some privacy.” She smiled again and left the room.
Bull listened to the ringing, wondering who Marly could be. Wondering also how he was going to hang up once he was done. He’d just have to grin and bear it, he supposed.
The ringing stopped and a woman’s mechanized voice said, “Hi. You’ve reached Marly Spencer. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” That was followed by a beep. Bull almost got stage fright and hung up. He might have if the phone table didn’t seem so far away.
“Um, this is Bull. I just wanted to say thank you for the card.” What else to say? Besides, sorry I don’t remember you, nothing came to mind, so he wrapped it up. “Thanks again. Bye.”
He struggled to get the receiver back in the cradle and then crashed backward, bouncing off the pillow, exhausted from that small effort. This recovery was going to suck, he could tell already. He only wished he knew what he was recovering from.
Marly arrived home in a funk.
The insurance company was going to fork up the cash to replace her harp. That had been an interesting form to fill out. Cause of damage—terrorist bombing. That reason had required a bit of explaining. Luckily, the bombing had been all over the news and the caterers could verify she had been there. Proving the claim to the insurance company shouldn’t be a problem. The problem was her new instrument wouldn’t arrive for weeks. Until then, she had to rent a piece of crap from the music school in town.
Harp woes aside, the other issue remained that her ex was practically stalking her. Apparently getting blown up and almost killed had made her even more desirable in John’s eyes. She glanced at her answering machine and noticed the light blinking. She sighed. Chances were it was him again. How many calls would this make? A dozen or so in the past couple of days? She took a deep breath to steel herself and punched the button to play the message.
The sound of Bull’s voice had her going weak in the knees. He’d called her. Even better, he was not only alive, he was all right. At least okay enough to make a call. She hadn’t been able to get any information out of anyone about him or his condition. It was like his very existence was a secret. She’d even had to call in a favor from her ex and have him find out not only Bull’s last name, but where to send the card and gift she’d gotten him. That inquiry had yielded a general address for the local military base only, not Bull’s home or where he’d been taken for treatment.
She remembered that night. It replayed in her head over and over. Like a nightmare, but it had been reality.
Dazed, in shock and deaf from the ringing in her ears, she’d been wrapped in blankets and taken out of the mansion by emergency crews. John had been outside, frantic for her safety. The sight of the emergency team taking Bull’s limp body away had been enough to send her into hysterics while the ambulance crew checked her for injuries.
Thanks to Bull’s quick thinking, she’d walked away from an explosion that should have killed her. Her ears were still ringing, but she didn’t have a scratch on her. Marly had told everyone within hearing distance how Bull had saved her life, but all John had wanted to do was take her home and comfort her.
She’d let John drive her home—she was too shaken to have driven herself—but she didn’t allow him to comfort her in the way he had in mind. Not that night, nor since.
Of course, she couldn’t tell her former boyfriend she’d had sex with Bull. That she was pretty sure he was the kind of man she could fall in love with, even after having only spent a brief time with him that one night. It was crazy. She barely knew him. Was it Stockholm syndrome? She hadn’t been his hostage, nor he her captor. But he had saved her life by covering her with his own body, at great risk to himself.
It didn’t matter that it was crazy. She wanted to see him again. Needed to. She scrolled down the list of incoming calls in the caller ID on her home phone. Luckily, unlike her cell phone, her home phone showed the name of the caller as well as the number. And there it was. He had called from the hospital. The name was right there on the read out. Now she knew where he was, that’s where she was going. She grabbed her purse and flung open the door to find her ex-boyfriend, John Dickson III, standing in her way.
“John. I’m sorry. I’m on my way out.”
“I see that.” He stepped inside anyway.
With a sigh, she closed the door and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
He smiled and took a step closer. Running his hands up and down her arms, he lowered his mouth toward hers. “You know what I want.”
Marly frowned. “We broke up.”
“No.” John shook his head. “You broke up. I didn’t agree to it.”
Was he kidding? Only a Dickson would have the nerve to say something like that. “Are you nuts? Because it’s really starting to sound like you are. Every time I pick up the paper, I see you with that other senator’s daughter, and everyone is speculating when you’ll get marr
ied. And before her, it was the governor’s daughter. What the hell do you want with me anyway? I’m a lowly musician who barely makes the rent.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with the silly tabloid rumors when we first started dating.” John continued to hold her arms. “Remember? You let me wine and dine you. Take you on expensive vacations. Buy you jewelry.”
He leaned forward as if he would kiss her. She pulled back and let out a bitter laugh. “I never asked for or expected gifts and trips and fancy dinners. I’m not a gold digger, and I resent you making me sound like one.”
John dropped his hold on her with a sigh. “Look, Marly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I can’t help it if my father’s second goal in life, right after making it to the White House, is to marry me off into a powerful southern political family. There’s nothing I can do about that. But I do know I’m happy when I’m with you. I want to be with you.” He raised his hand again and caressed her cheek. “Both in bed and out of it.”
She decided to play along with his delusion. “So what happens to us when you do marry one of Daddy’s picks?”
“You’ll always be a part of my life. That won’t change. We just have to be discreet.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “My daddy’s been with the same woman for over twenty years.”
The senator and his wife had been happily married for thirty-five years so she knew John wasn’t talking about his mother. For twenty years, Senator Dickson had been hiding a mistress from the public, and from his wife unless she knew and didn’t care. Marly’s stomach churned at the thought. John was willing to place her in the role of long-term mistress without a second thought. She wanted—she deserved—so much more than that. She wanted a lifetime commitment. She wanted a home and kids. Maybe not this second, but one day.
When she thought about it, she realized she wanted Bull.