Call of Duty [Class of '93 Trilogy Book 3]

by Felicia Forella

  "I thought you said you wanted a friendly face."

  "I do. Patricia and Larry are here for Kat, not me.” Braedon's fist made contact with Chad's shoulder.

  "Chad was telling me a little about you—"

  "Don't believe a word he says."

  "But he didn't get a chance to tell me where you live or what you do."

  "Kat and I work for the FBI. She works for the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime and I'm a Special Agent. We live between Baltimore, where I'm stationed, and DC, since Kat works in Arlington."

  "So why'd you decide to run off and elope in Vegas?"

  Biting back the urge to chastise Chad, she sighed. Leave it to a man to ask tactless questions.

  "Her parents wanted one thing, my parents wanted another, and Kat and I wanted something else. So we decided to blow everything off and do this instead. The stress was too much for Kat and we couldn't keep trying to iron out the differences."

  "Why the rush?” Again with the tactless question. Men.

  Braedon puffed up and she immediately suspected the reason for the quickie, if elegant, wedding. “Congratulations. When is Kat due?"

  "Due?” Chad looked back and forth between them.

  "April.” Braedon swelled with obvious pride.

  What is it about men? They thought shooting off a few million sperm was the end all be all to getting and being pregnant. As if you're not a man until you knock up some woman. It sure as hell hadn't made Brian a man.

  "Jeez, man. Didn't your mother teach you about condoms? Didn't my disaster teach you anything?"

  His disaster?

  "Hey, man, things happen. I hope you'll be happy for me.” Braedon stuck out his hand.

  Chad shook his head and smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I am, man, I am.” He pulled Braedon into another hug. “You deserve to be happy."

  "So do you.” Braedon smiled at her, his comment directed at Chad.

  The musicians started playing, preempting any questions she longed to ask. With any luck, she'd have some time before they headed home for the night.

  Chad twined his fingers with hers as they followed Braedon to the steps. “Show time."

  * * * *

  Kat—Katrina—had been the most beautiful bride she'd ever seen. The bustling St. Mark's Square had quieted as she and Braedon took their place with the official in the middle of the bridge and exchanged vows. It was arguably the most romantic wedding she'd ever attended.

  Now she stood in the middle of one of the hotel's hospitality suites sipping on sparkling cider, in deference to the bride. Delicious hor d'oevures filled one table and a gorgeous two-layer wedding cake another. The reception may have been small, all six of them, but it lacked for nothing.

  Chad brushed up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She'd noticed something about him since the ceremony began, a sadness in his eyes, a heaviness in his step. Would he tell her? Doubtful. One night in bed was probably not enough to get a man to talk.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?” He kissed the spot behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. If he kept that up, she'd dissolve into a puddle of goo.

  "I am.” And she was. Braedon and Katrina and Pat and Larry had gone out of their way to include her and make her feel welcome.

  "I'm glad. Because I'm glad you're here with me and I'd hate to think that I was being selfish.” He nuzzled her neck and trailed little kisses from her ear to her shoulder. Was it too soon to say their goodbyes?

  Looking up, she caught Braedon watching them, a curious smile on his face. She felt herself blush as she broke eye contact. Chad had been so free with his affection all evening, acting more like a man inclined to make a commitment than the exact opposite. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Her hands dropped on top of his and she relaxed against his body.

  "Hey, Chadwick, mind hauling it over here so we can cut the cake?” Braedon called out as he and Katrina moved behind the cake.

  Chad stiffened behind her and not in a good way. Turning her head back to look at him, she mouthed, Chadwick?

  "Petrol is a dead man."

  He moved them closer to the table but kept a tight hold on her. As Braedon and Katrina sliced into the decadent-looking creation, Chad called out, “Evviva Gli Sposi. A toast to the newlyweds. You need it, because you just made your wife a widow."

  The groom burst out laughing just as his bride tried to feed him a piece of cake.

  Casey turned her attention to the actual cake, looking at it for the first time. “Is that a tent on top with the figurines?” She had only wanted to whisper to Chad, but realized she'd been a little too loud when Katrina answered.

  "It sure is. Braedon and I fell in love on an assignment, hiking the Appalachian Trail. Since a tent is what brought us together, we wanted to commemorate that."

  A few minutes later, Casey sat on a sofa savoring the moist cake and Chad's company. “How about you finish up that cake so we can get out of here?” The fire in his eyes burned all the way to her crotch.

  She'd wondered how long he'd last, with all the attention and affection he'd been showering on her. She'd been ready to leave for what felt like hours. “I'd love nothing better."

  Chad snatched the plate from her hand mid-bite and deposited it on the end table. Clutching her hand, he dragged her over to the newlyweds. “Petrol, I'm honored you asked me to be here tonight, but I'm still going to kill you.” That earned a laugh from Braedon. “But it's getting late and some of us have to work tomorrow."

  "It's barely nine o'clock.” He shot Chad a knowing glance.

  "That's beside the point. If you can tear yourselves out of bed before you head back to the East coast, Call us. If you don't, we'll understand.” They shook hands this time, thumping each other on the shoulder. Chad kissed Katrina on the cheek and told her she was a beautiful bride and too good for her husband. Both of the newlyweds hugged Casey and thanked her for joining them on their special day. After saying goodbye to Patricia and Larry, Chad grabbed her hand and practically dragged her from the suite.

  Heading for the elevator, he punched the up button.

  "Um, Chad, the lobby is down."

  "But our room is up."

  "Our room?"

  "I reserved us a room for the night.” He hugged her close once they'd stepped inside the empty elevator.

  "You what?” Her heart began to race, beating until she feared it would explode.

  "I wanted to do something special for you."

  "But you already have. You bought this dress and these shoes for me, you brought me here for a magical evening—"

  "One that's only just begun."

  "But—"

  He silenced all her objections when he told her that he'd already talked to Jan. He stopped by on his way to pick her up. She'd take Jackson to school in the morning, giving them some extra time. He had a nighttime training mission, so his morning was free, too. And if she needed a change of clothes, there was an entire floor of Grand Canal Shoppes from which to choose.

  With a soft ding, the elevator doors whooshed open. Dropping his hand to the small of her back, Chad guided her down a corridor as elegant as the rest of the hotel. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a keycard, ushering them into a palatial suite. The king-sized canopied bed that greeted them sent her mind tumbling in one direction and one direction only.

  Damn, why hadn't she splurged on a fancy bra and panty set?

  "So, the night is still young. What would you like to do with the rest of the evening?"

  Chad stood before her, hands in his pant pockets, seemingly at ease with all this luxury. Come to think of it, he'd been comfortable in the surroundings all evening. Interesting, considering she knew for a fact that Air Force officers did not make the big bucks.

  "Gee, that's funny, just a few minutes ago it was getting late.” She flashed him what she hoped was her most mischievous smile.

  "That was before."

  "Before
what?"

  "Before I had you all to myself.” He stalked toward her, with a predatory look in his eyes. He caught her up flush against his toned body and swooped down to claim her mouth with an all-consuming kiss, deep and hungry. He tasted of the apple cider they'd been drinking with a hint of frosting, the sweetness a contrast to the power of his lips. He devoured her, thrusting his tongue to stroke along hers, and demanded a response. Of their own volition, her arms curled around his neck and her fingers stabbed through his thick hair. She met him on his terms as he stole the air from her lungs and turned her bones to putty when she lost herself in his sensual assault. Holy cow, the man kissed like he'd been highly trained. She'd be perfectly content to stay locked in his embrace all night.

  Or maybe not.

  Pressure built in her breasts and between her legs, calling out for him to relieve it. With a slight arch of her back, she pressed her fleshy chest to the hard contours of his. There were too many layers of clothes between them—a shirt, a jacket, a dress, a bra. Time had come to remove some of those obstacles. Reaching between them, she tugged at the button of his jacket.

  "Wait.” He caught her wrist. “I wanted to give you the choice, leave the decision up to you. Just because I got us a room, I didn't want you to feel obligated to sleep with me. I meant it when I asked what you wanted to do this evening. We can go to the casino or take a stroll though the Grand Canal or—"

  "Or you can throw me down on that bed and screw me silly."

  Chapter 12

  Airspeed, altitude and brains.

  Two are always needed to successfully complete the flight.

  "Or you can throw me down on that bed and screw me silly."

  Casey's words resonated in Chad's cock. He wanted to do nothing more than that, right here, right now.

  Then do it, his demanding little head ordered. Do it, do her. What the hell was he waiting for? He already had the engraved invitation.

  He reached for her and she tumbled back into his arms. Her heels lined her up perfectly with him; his hard-on fit into the vee of her thighs. His fingers fumbled with the clips and pins holding up all that silky golden hair. He wanted it down, fisted in his hands. Thank God, she had mercy on him and helped him out. He tunneled his fingers through the thick strands, palming the back of her head and pulling her face close. A hint of something fruity wrapped around him, seducing him, as she looped her arms around his neck. He rubbed his lips over hers and tugged her lower lip between his teeth. She rewarded him by hooking her arms around his neck and tucking her body closer to his. When she moaned, he licked into her mouth and savored the taste of cake and passion and willing woman. She sucked on his tongue, and his cock responded to each pull as if she had it in her mouth.

  Maybe they could stumble over to the sunken living room and find the couch. He found himself unable to remember the last time he'd kissed a woman for the sheer enjoyment of kissing.

  Are you fucking nuts? His cock had other ideas.

  Walking them backwards, he stopped when his knees hit the bench at the end of the bed and sat down. He backed out of the kiss by slow degrees, her lips clinging to his as she melted for him. Bracing her with his thighs, he turned her around to attack the row of buttons at the back of her dress. He'd fingered them all evening, dying to slip them from their little loops to expose the line of her spine. With eager fingers, he released every last one of them, almost snapping off one or two in his haste. Spreading the material wide, he trailed moist kisses from the strap of her bra to the top of her panties. She shivered with each touch. He pushed the sleeves off her shoulders, trapping her arms against her body. With her body bowed forward, her hair spilling around her face, and her shoulders lifting with her rapid breath, she looked sexy as hell—a willing submissive goddess come to earth for his pleasure. Only he didn't want submissive. He wanted an equal.

  Turning her back around to face him, he freed her arms, the dress pooling at her feet until she stood before him in a black bra and panties. Good God, he'd never seen anything sexier. His cock agreed; so hard it hurt. That Victoria place offered sensuality in tiny, lacy undergarments that barely concealed a thing. They had nothing on this woman. She didn't need any help to tighten up his balls and drive him mad.

  She reached for his bow tie and pulled it loose then went to work on his shirt as he shrugged off his jacket. Her fingers made short work of the studs, stopping at his cummerbund. Her hands slipped behind his back to unhook the garment. He itched to strip off his clothes, to join her nearly naked, but instead allowed her slow, methodical pace. He'd waited all evening for this; he could damn well wait a little longer. While she was fumbling behind his back, she tugged his shirttails from his pants then returned to opening his shirt. She pulled him to his feet when she succeeded in baring his chest.

  When her head dipped, he wondered what she had in store for him next. He didn't have to wait long. She swiped her tongue over his nipple, the sensation shooting straight to his dick. Damn, that felt good. He yanked his shirt from his shoulders, forgetting he wore cuff links. So instead of getting half naked, he ended up bound at the wrists by his damn shirt.

  "Aw, poor baby. Are you having trouble?” Her eyes flashed with mischief.

  "Yes, help me get this damn thing off."

  Her hands went to his pants instead of his wrists. Next thing he knew, she'd tugged his pants and boxers to his ankles. Dropping to her knees, she gripped his cock in her hands and used both to stroke him from base to tip.

  "I want to touch you.” He struggled with the cuffs of his shirt, but the damn cuff links held firm. He felt his pulse pounding in the vein in his neck.

  She shook her head, but didn't look up at him. Instead, she focused on the movement of her hands. Her touch burned him. Who knew those dainty hands could do so much damage. When a drop of pre-cum leaked from his tip, she lapped it up like dripping ice cream.

  "You taste so good.” She tasted every inch of him, swirling her tongue all around, paying special attention to his head.

  Fucking A, she was going to kill him. He wanted to cup her head, to twist his fingers in her hair, to guide her mouth over him. His knees gave out on him and he collapsed to the bench. He'd never begged in his life, but he was about to now.

  "Please help me get out of this shirt."

  The little minx ignored him. Instead, she swallowed him, took his head in her hot mouth while she continued to lick all around it. She sucked, the pressure zinging white shards of pleasure to his balls. When she added her hand to the assault, his head dropped to his chest.

  "Suck me, suck me hard."

  That she listened to. And he thanked his lucky stars. Her fingers tickled his balls, causing them to draw up into hard little knots. He wasn't going to last much longer. She could have sucked him for five seconds, five minutes, or five days. He didn't know, didn't care. The only thing that mattered was his dick in her mouth and how it made him feel.

  "Honey, I'm gonna come."

  She intensified her efforts. He bucked his hips in warning. He flinched when he felt teeth nip just below his head. She bit him! And sent him over the edge.

  "Now, baby, now.” It was a wonder he managed to get any words out at all. Every fiber of his being was centered on her lips and tongue and the sensations she drew from him.

  Her hand slid from his nuts to circle around his butt. That did it. His control shattered. With a hoarse cry and her name on his lips, he pumped his hips, releasing deep in her throat. Shocks zinged through his body with each squirt, electrical impulses that heightened the pleasure. She kept sucking until she drained him dry, and then some. Looking up at him, she licked her lips like she'd just finished something from Ben and Jerry's.

  Pushing up, she located the cuff links and freed his arms from their temporary prison. He surged to his feet and scooped her up in his arms.

  "To hell with screwing you silly. I'm going to fuck you senseless."

  * * * *

  Those damn butterflies kicked up in Casey's stoma
ch as she stared into Chad's eyes, dark and stormy and filled with desire. Had she pushed him too far with her attempt at a blowjob? She bounced once when he tossed her on the bed. Then, he sat down beside her to pull off the last of his clothing. She stretched to pull off her shoes but a firm hand on her forearm stopped her.

  "I thought I asked you to leave them on.” He rose above her.

  She bobbed her head and stretched back out. So much for thinking he'd been joking.

  "It wasn't very nice of you to tease me.” His voice sounded serious but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story.

  "I didn't tease you.” She hadn't. She'd actually finished and swallowed.

  "But you didn't let me touch you. So now I'm going to touch you. All over. Until I'm satisfied."

  All she managed was a nod. The intensity of his gaze robbed her of the power of speech. His hand started at her shoulder and traced a light path all the way to her knee, then back up again. She lunged for the light on the nightstand only to have a pair of strong hands circle her waist and deposit her back on the bed.

  "I want the light on. I didn't get to see enough of you last time."

  A brief moment of panic seized her at the thought of this man, in prime physical condition, seeing her, in so much less than that. But the way he looked at her assured her he found her attractive. And he had seen her naked already, anyway, and come back for more.

  Leaning down, he nibbled at her lips, the contact too light to her way of thinking. She clung to his mouth, wanting more—needing more—of him. The wicked chuckle as he pulled away sent shivers down her spine.

  "No way, honey, I call the shots now."

  She'd teased the lion and it was coming back to bite her in the ass. Which might not be such a bad thing. She grinned.

  "You won't be smiling when I get through with you.” He swept his hand down her belly, and stopped just shy of her dark curls. On the way back up her body, he reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. One swift tug sent it flying somewhere. His gaze was glued to her now naked chest.

  Oh, no, she might not be smiling, but she'd be a panting, limp, satisfied bowl of jelly, if their last encounter was any basis for comparison. Which was definitely a good thing.