by Billi Jean
Mandy nodded. She looked frightened.
The question was—of him, or the situation they were in?
“Just stay close, baby, just keep yourself safe.”
Chapter Twenty
Mandy’s skin crawled. Trembles kept her busy, worrying her so badly that she dug her boots into the ground and straightened her legs to prevent her body from shaking her arms too badly.
If Mac got killed, she’d never survive. She couldn’t. Not without him. She’d been so worried she’d done something wrong she’d stayed silent. All that time walking she could have been talking to him more about his life, what he’d been doing, where, with whom. All those things she wanted to know, but hadn’t asked when they were having wild sex. Or curling up in each other’s arms. Or walking with a boat load of worry she’d done something wrong when all he’d been thinking about was protecting her.
Sweat dripped in her eyes and she lost sight of the dogs. The men, though, oh, man, she saw them. Big, wild-looking men dressed in black and dark, dirty-looking jeans. They all had black hair, swarthy complexions, and huge guns. One wore a leather vest with no shirt and leather pants. Who did that? He scared her the most. He carried a short assault rifle. The thing looked deadly. Heck, he looked deadly.
The dogs bounded into view and at the same instant two sharp blasts of gunfire ripped through the jungle. The fierce, snarling dogs fell before the sound had died. She bit her lip and fired twice right at the men, forgetting that Mac told her to aim at the sky until she’d pulled the trigger. Nothing hit. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the gun. While she watched, one man jerked backwards and fell. She swallowed a cry, flipped the safety on so she didn’t shoot her own foot and scrambled up to run quickly to her left, keeping hunched over. Tree branches hit her in the face, but she thrust her way through a denser part of the jungle, terrified at the sound of guns going off.
No bullets made it near her. She dived onto her hands and knees, crawled under a thicker patch of red-berried shrubbery, and prayed that no creepy snakes or spiders were waiting for her. As soon as she settled on her stomach, she shoved the bush out of her way and spotted the men standing and aiming at the tree line. They fired in waves back and forth. The whole thing looked like a Rambo movie gone nuts. She slipped the safety off but, as she watched the men, a red spot blossomed on one man’s forehead and he went down. She fired more out of fright than anything and managed to forget to fire her gun only twice.
More gunfire hit, this time destroying the greenery around her. She curled up in a tight ball and prayed like she hadn’t in years. Leaves and bits of bark showered down on her, but, after what felt like forever, the tree stopped exploding. As soon as it stopped, she scrambled back out of the mutilated shrub and raced back towards where Mac had left her. A man screamed and more shouting reached her over the pinging of weapons. Then silence.
Her breathing sounded too loud with the sudden lack of gunfire. She tried to dodge the trees, look back over her shoulder, and still run at the same time but stumbled over a tree root and landed hard on her front.
Shit! Mac needed her with him, not falling all over her own two feet. Her knees hurt but she crawled to another fallen tree and shoved out through the undergrowth to see the man in the leather vest nearly at the tree line. He ducked under fire from Mac and shoved his way through the jungle. No one else remained in the field. Had Mac killed them all? She held her breath. Fear pounded through her body and turned her into a shivering mess. Her heartbeat was erratic, but at least for once her breathing wasn’t the only thing messed up.
She covered her mouth when a laugh tried to break free. Holy moly, she was useless, wasn’t she?
The greasy vest guy crashed through the undergrowth, and it took her several scary minutes before she realised his noise had got farther from her rather than closer to her. Just as she was about to relax, a bullet ripped into the tree right above her. Another followed. She curled up with her knees against her chest, head buried under her arms, trying to get as small as possible.
Nothing else happened. No more shots. No crashing sounds. Even the crazy birds were quiet. A breeze fanned her sweaty body. She itched where Mac had rubbed dirt on her face. Gradually she released her arms and peeked up around her hiding spot. Nothing, just gorgeous-looking paradise.
How long did Mac want her to wait?
Minutes went by and nothing. Not a sound of pursuit, nothing.
What if he was shot and hurt? Or, worse, killed? How would she know?
He was out there, somewhere, possibly dead. Fear rushed through her veins, and all the things she’d wanted to tell him dimmed compared to the one thing she should have said.
She loved him.
Tears burned her eyes and throat. She should have told him. She should have told him she wasn’t letting him go after those guys alone, either. Like she would have been any help at all. But still, she should have offered.
Minutes ticked by, seeming to last forever. She watched a bird start to circle and realised that it must be a vulture. More joined until there was a lazy pattern of them against the blue sky.
Where was Mac? Should she go and see if he was out there? Oh, God. What if he was out there? What if he was hurt and needed her? She tensed to stand, sure she had to go find out when suddenly a dark shape materialised next to her. She screamed and scrambled back, gun out.
“Mandy, sugar, it’s me.”
Oh, God. She dropped the gun next to her leg and dived into his arms, hugging him tight around the waist. He grunted and wrapped his arms around her. He smelt like Mac—wonderful. Sweaty, and kinda spicy.
“We gotta go.”
“You got them? All of them?”
He pulled her back a little but she kept her arms around him. She just needed to feel him, warm, hard, safe. Mac. He grimaced and she moved back to see a spot of blood on his T-shirt.
“Oh, God, oh, God. You’ve been hurt!”
“It’s nothing, just a graze.”
She frowned at him. He was lying. To her. “Look, Mr Macho, don’t. Just don’t. Tell me you have something in that bag of wonders you lugged all over the place for wounds.”
He cracked a painful grin and eased his pack off, and by his tense expression, it hurt. She helped slide it down his arms, soothing him with a soft kiss to his stubborn jaw. As soon as she had the black bag off, she gently pushed him to sit instead of crouching on his haunches. “Just sit down, would you?”
Eying her sceptically, he slowly sat with his back against the tree. He exhaled heavily, leant forward and reached back to pull his shirt off in one quick move.
Her breath left her lungs in a rush. Right above his left elbow blood oozed down his arm adding to the already alarming amount dripping onto the jungle floor.
“In the bag, there’s a clear, sealed pouch. You’ll find everything in there.”
She jerked the pack to her, happy to stop looking at his wound. He grunted and stretched his long legs out. “They were alone. I went and checked the truck. We get this fixed up, take the truck, and head to the nearest town.”
“How did this happen?” she asked, not impressed with his even tone. He hurt, she could tell.
“What?” He met her eyes with a frown. “This?” He shrugged at his wound, glancing down at it for only a second before meeting her eyes steadily. “This is nothing, sugar. Now come on, clean it out, and wrap it.”
“Clean it out? And that’s it?”
He nodded. She exhaled wearily and pulled out a bottle of water, the white roll of bandages she found, and some heavy-duty-looking medicinal cream in a white tube. He tensed when she poured water over the wound but didn’t say anything.
“How are we going to get away from these people, Mac?”
The more water she poured on his arm the clearer the jagged cut became. Not wanting to cause more hurt, she lifted his arm and lightly patted the sides to clean it.
“We’ll get away, they can’t have more here yet. Those guys were lucky, that�
��s all. Just put a gob of that cream on it, wrap it and we go.”
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I clean it a bit more?”
“It’s good, sugar. Now, hurry up.”
He rubbed his other hand over his short hair and frowned at her. “I got a phone. We call Ace as soon as we get service.”
“So you…took a phone? And we take their truck to town?” she asked, applying the medicine to the wound. The glob, as he put it, was clear and smelt medicinal, but she used a lot, covering it completely before she had him raise his arm so she could wrap the firm muscle.
“Yeah, it will be easier than walking. Besides, we need speed. The guys I took down will be missed. When they’re missed, that’s when they’ll send more.”
“Oh, great. That’s great.” She met his clear gaze and tied off the wrappings carefully. He didn’t even wince. “All done.”
“Trust me, Mandy. That’s all. We can get through this. I’ve been through worse training exercises. We can do this.”
He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
“Okay, Mac I—”
“Hell if I like you in this shit, Mandy. I want you out of this,” he said, cutting her off. “We’ll get to that town, make some calls, and we’re out of here as soon as I can arrange it.”
“Not by helicopter. No way.”
He grinned and nodded. She watched as he soaked his T-shirt in water and was surprised when he brought the damp material up to wipe her face. He pulled the stocking cap off and ruffled her hair after, tugging some of it behind her ear. “You look pretty damn hot all battle ready.”
“Battle ready, huh?” She laughed. Hardly. She’d been so scared she probably hadn’t hit anything. She suddenly swallowed hard. What if she’d killed one of those men?
“Mandy, look at me.”
She blinked and focused on Mac’s face.
“I never want you in that shit again. Understand?”
She nodded. The intensity of his expression worried her. He looked so hard, but under it she sensed something more, some fear she couldn’t understand.
“I never want you in that either, Mac. I could have lost you.” She broke off on a low cry and hugged him tightly.
“Mandy.” The sound of his voice, suddenly husky and full of tension, didn’t shock her nearly as much as his erection burning along her thigh when he pulled her closer.
He wanted her, now, right now, if she was any kind of judge of these things. He needed her. With a start, she knew what he wanted, what he needed to soothe this fear of losing her, because she felt it too. Life was so fragile. A person could be there one moment and gone from your life the next. She wasn’t letting another moment go by with Mac if she could help it. With a grimace, he pulled her in by the back of her neck and took her mouth in a long, hot kiss. His tongue pushed inside her mouth, making her wet and crazy inside with the lush feel of his strong strokes. She fell against his firm, hard body, careful of his wounded arm.
She needed him. Now.
Her pussy clenched and she moved onto his lap, reaching down to grip him through his BDUs. Impatiently she ripped at the buttons and managed to free him. Wild, hot sensations rocked through her and she rubbed one hand up his stomach to his chest, needing to feel all of him. She dived deeper into the kiss, wanting him to take her, now, right now, but unable to break away long enough to make that happen. The hot press of his body against hers filled her with desire so badly she whimpered in his mouth. He was big, so thick she had worried that first night. Until he’d been careful, easing her into spreading for him until she’d grown addicted to the feel of him filling her.
“Mac, I want to feel.”
She watched, mesmerised by how his hazel eyes darkened as he examined her face, and a look—relief—crossed his face before he hauled her harder into his arms.
“Now, please, I was so frightened for you. Now.”
“Here?”
“Yes, yes, Mac. Now.”
“I can’t be slow, sugar. I—”
She dug her fingers in his hair and tugged hard. “I want you. All of you.”
With an intensity that almost frightened her, he took her mouth in a blazing hot kiss while he quickly pushed her backwards, already working at her pants. He didn’t waste time on taking them off all the way, but jerked them down past her butt, rolled her onto her stomach and pressed his bigger body over hers.
“Fuck, I need you, baby.” With a desperate-sounding exhale, he angled her leg up to the side and reached down to cup her pussy with his hand.
A shock of fear zipped along her body like a caress as he rammed his steel-hard flesh against her ass. He rocked there and groaned desperately into her shoulder. He was out of control, clearly not able to wait for her to be ready.
Just the thought of him taking her so quickly had her dripping. They were out in the open, he’d just nearly died—again—and she needed to know they were still alive. He was still alive.
“Open, baby.” He didn’t wait but rammed into her as soon as she angled up. The possession hurt. The deep, hard drive of his cock spread her impossibly for his rough claiming and caught her breath. Trembling she bit down lightly on his wrist and rocked her ass back into his hips.
“Fuck yeah, Mandy. Give it to me,” he growled and starting hard, powerful driving thrusts, each short rock of his hips creating harder and harder slaps of flesh on flesh. He was wild, biting her shoulder and sucking on her neck and back. His hands were everywhere, tugging her shirt up, cupping her breast, pinching her nipples, dipping down to finger her clit, tightening around her throat to turn her head for a dark, possessive kiss.
She was just as frantic. She sobbed, lifting her ass up for more, deeper drives and urged him on by rocking back to meet his frantic lunges.
“Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He filled her completely with his next pass and they both groaned. Mandy cried out his name and suddenly he reared up behind her, gripped her butt in both hands, and started bucking into her with fast, frantic movements that rocked her forward each time his hips slammed into her.
She felt him swell and cried out. He felt so good, so perfect. He must have thought so as well because he desperately dug his hands into her waist right above her butt with a low, tortured moan. Holding her tight, he bent over her, found her mouth, and kissed her so frantically she felt something burst along her skin. Her body tightened. Behind her, he shuddered then grew tense.
With a low, tortured groan into the nape of her neck, he drove in deep.
“Mac, oh, yes, yes.”
“Coming baby, coming.” He rammed forward, rocking against her in uneven out of control movements. It was all she needed. The pulse of him coming struck like one more cup on a tray already overflowing. She shattered. The intensity was so incredibly right she dug her fingers into the turf and thrust back into him.
Mac was just as lost. He toppled her down hard to the ground, keeping her butt tilted higher as he pounded into her with hard, deep, agonising sounds of pleasure right in her ear.
Gradually, after several moments of simple bliss, she felt the tension ease from him. His grip on her grew less tight and he murmured her name in a husky, breathless voice. Where they joined, the orgasm still shivered along his hard length and up her spine. He made to move off her, but she reached back and gripped his wrist to hold him still. A moan broke free past her lips when he pressed tighter to her and flexed his thick cock.
“God, baby, yeah, take it for me, so fucking beautiful, Mandy.”
She sucked in a breath and held it. He didn’t move, and the intensity of the mini climax increased until she sobbed out his name, shaking so badly that he clenched his hands on her butt again and dipped his head to lick at her mouth. “So fucking sexy. Come again, sugar. You like that, huh? Damn,” he groaned when she bit his jaw.
“No, oh, God, enough, don’t talk. Don’t move. Don’t,” she moaned and struggled to catch her breath. It felt like he’d shoved his big erection all the way up inside her and
her body couldn’t stop clenching around him. “Just don’t.”
He laughed and she gasped at the feel of him shaking inside her. Oh, God, that was sexy.
The mini climax grew smaller and smaller until she sighed into the ground, feeling like her body had turned to Jell-O. As if he knew she couldn’t move, he eased down over her, keeping himself firmly seated inside her as he brushed breathless kisses against her cheek. “Damn, baby, I might get you into combat more often if this is my reward.”
She laughed, amazed at him. “Oh? You think so?”
“Damn right. I’ve never had combat sex, sugar. This shit is the bomb.”
“Oh, God, you are too much.” He wasn’t, though. He made it all okay. Part of her was freaked out that they had just fucked like animals, that her pants were down around her knees, and that he had just killed people, but the other part of her needed this, him, so badly, she wasn’t. Mac simply made it all okay.
“You loved it,” he whispered.
“I did.” She wanted to say she loved him, but swallowed the words, not sure if now was the time to tell him such a thing.
He brushed a kiss to the spot behind her ear, and pulled back slowly, withdrawing his long shaft from her body. She didn’t miss that he was still hard, not as thick as he could get, but he could still go on. She knew that very well. He groaned out her name with such feeling that she shivered all over again. Bending over her he surprised her by placing a kiss on her butt then helped her turn to pull her pants up before he repositioned himself in his cargo shorts.
She grinned up at him. He turned laughing hazel eyes down at her and bent over to kiss her slowly, taking his time to run his hand through her hair and over her shoulders and down her side. She touched him in turn. The slow, gentle caresses so in opposition to what they’d just done, she felt her love nearly bursting along her seams. She loved this man so much. How had she lived without him?
She hadn’t. She saw that now. She’d worked. And worked, and worked. She’d not truly let herself live. How could she? Mac had always been the one. Her love.