Now Christy had seen him kill two men. In less than five minutes. He glanced in her direction and was thankful to see her staring at the floor. Killing was not something he was proud of, but if the odds were down to four versus two, not counting Christy, they had a damned good chance. If Armando was in any shape to fight.
The absence of the two gunmen was getting attention from the other room. The door was kicked open and then the room was sprayed with automatic gunfire, splinters of wood flying like a wood chipper. Someone breeched the doorway and caught Kyle’s rounds across the chest. Kyle hadn’t been sure until that moment whether or not the ammo was hollow point, and thank God it was. The body, encased in a flak vest, crumbled to the ground.
The other two gunmen fanned out in opposite directions on the other side of the door, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. Kyle hoped Armando was awake and ready. He kicked the door in with the heel of his boot, and stepped into the living room, his weapon trained on anything that moved. Armando stepped up next to him. Armando was weaving.
Kyle went to fish out his other 9mm, but Armando held up the captor’s weapon.
“You okay?”
“Fucked, man, but I can do this blindfolded.”
It felt good to hear Armando’s voice after all this time.
Another hail of automatic rounds pierced the air, sending little explosions along the walls, shattering the window glass. Armando and Kyle pressed themselves to the floor until the firestorm subsided, then leapt through the doorway and swung an arc of fire across the room, cutting one man down but pinning the other one behind the kitchen counter. Armando was going to blast through the cabinets.
But that wasn’t the real problem.
“Hey, asshole,” came the familiar voice of Deputy Hilber behind Kyle.
Kyle turned and saw Hilber in his shorts and a T-shirt, barefoot, gingerly stepping across debris from the gunfight. He had Christy in a chokehold and had an automatic aimed at her temple. She was barely able to keep upright, Kyle saw. Her feet were slipping on pieces of door, furniture, and sheetrock as she and Hilber made their shaky path from the doorway into the living room.
Kyle and Armando lowered their weapons, but didn’t let them drop.
“Aquí, aquí,” Hilber said to the gunman behind the counter, pointing to Armando and Kyle with his forehead.
The two SEALs were disarmed. Kyle’s gaze flew back and forth between Christy and Hilber. He and Armando spread out from each other, then slowly raised their hands and placed them behind their heads as they’d been instructed. They continued to turn toward Hilber and spread apart further. Kyle was slightly forward. Armando was closer to the other gunman, backing into the kitchen area.
“Not so fast, gentlemen. Stop right there.” Hilber was having a hard time with Christy’s balance. She was leaning into him, trying to get her footing on the uneven floor.
Christy’s eyes were not wild and unfocused. She was trying to tell him something, but Kyle couldn’t get it.
He looked at Armando, who twitched the left side of his lip. The gunman in the corner looked like he was about to pee in his pants. He was mumbling something Kyle couldn’t understand, but Armando whispered a terse sentence back at him in Spanish, which made the man flinch and aim his weapon on him.
“I said knock it off, a-mee-gos. Or she gets it. Com-pren-day?” Hilber shouted. He looked ridiculous in his shorts. His one eye had taken a blow and was nearly swollen shut, but his good eye was darting all over the room, looking for danger in every corner. “Ever try talking to a bunch of Mexicans without their leader? No offense.” He nodded to Armando.
“I’m Puerto Rican,” Armando shot back.
Christy was still having difficulty balancing. Kyle watched her feet and ankles twisting over the debris.
“Will you fucking stop with the wiggling?” Hilber screamed at her and bent her backward. Kyle knew Hilber was past his breaking point and was highly dangerous. A sudden jerk could set his trigger finger askew and Christy’s head would explode.
Christy’s expression got wide, She was damn scared. Her gaze clung to him like he was her lifeline. She wouldn’t take her eyes off him.
She glanced down quickly and then right back up to Kyle’s face in a deliberate attempt to send him a message. That’s when it hit him. He watched in slow motion as she fumbled to balance herself on one foot. One long black leg bent at the knee and rose up slowly. He knew what was coming next. He hoped Armando was ready because they were going to go on her mark.
Christy jammed her heel back into the fleshy portion on the inside of Hilber’s right thigh. At least three inches of the deadly weapon ripped and tore away at his skin. The deputy screamed. Blood spurted across the room from Hilber’s severed femoral artery.
Armando hit the other gunman with a roundhouse kick to the nose. The man’s weapons clattered to the ground like pickup sticks. He was dead before he landed on top.
The outside door burst open and a herd of hefty gray-hairs stormed in like elephants in musth. Guns drawn. Flack jackets flapping, unable to be fastened at the sides. Kyle was going to train his weapon on them when he heard Fredo’s voice. “Hold it, Kyle. Friendlies.”
Kyle was never so happy to see a bunch of overweight retirees in his life, even though one of them swore at having missed the chance to fire a weapon.
Cooper looked between Kyle, Armando, and Christy, and then kneeled to examine Hilber, who was trying to stop the bleeding by holding onto his thigh, but to no avail.
Gunny was there, too. “Let the sonofabitch bleed out,” he said to Cooper’s arched back.
“Can’t do that.” Cooper answered. He quickly fashioned a tourniquet from his medic kit and the spurting stopped in mere seconds.
Christy stood in the middle of the carnage, still trying to get her balance. Her dainty pink toes were exposed on her right foot, her left still wore the stiletto. Kyle swept her up in his arms and took her to a corner, where he consumed every inch of her body he could touch with kisses.
Sirens were blaring outside as the younger version of the elephant squad arrived in full battle gear. Everyone silently began checking the dead, whispering among themselves. There was a lot of nodding of heads as whispers were passed around from man to man.
Kyle and Armando shook every hand that was outstretched. Armando made some comment about it feeling like an election, with the slapping on the back and the “Well done, sons,” going around.
“Privilege, kid.”
“It’s an honor.”
“Glad we could help out.”
“Nothin’ else to do,” was Gunny’s response.
Kyle grabbed the man and gave him a bear hug. The four team brothers locked shoulders in a circle and looked to each other without uttering a word.
Damn good to be alive.
Just as quickly as the circle formed, they dropped their arms and stepped away, all of them focused on a spot behind Kyle’s back. Kyle turned and saw Christy come up to the group. She slipped into the circle next to Kyle and wrapped her arms around his waist. And they let her stand there.
Just like one of the guys. Kyle was so proud of her.
“Now you’re an honorary member of SEAL Team III,” Kyle said.
She threw her head back and giggled. “Yes! Accidentally.”
Chapter 41
Christy studied their faces. These were her new brothers. She was not their equal in any way, but these were brothers who would have sacrificed their lives for her. It was a family of brothers unlike any other family she had ever known or had heard about.
“Thank you?” Her expression came out like a question and she cursed to herself. “I really don’t know exactly what to say. I’m so grateful to all of you.”
“Oh, it’s okay, missy,” Fredo said. “Kyle has that effect on women all the time, don’t you, studly?” Fredo winked at Kyle and got the finger for it.
“Sorry,” Kyle whispered to the top of her head.
She answered him by c
lutching his body closer to hers. He chuckled and looked back down into her eyes. Their shared reverie was interrupted by groans coming from the other SEALs. But Gunny was grinning like he’d found a million dollars. Kyle shrugged.
Fredo announced they were getting out of the battle zone.
Kyle pulled Christy alongside him as they walked past the squads. There were smiles all around.
Christy heard Fredo shout out, “Kyle, for Chrissakes, would you two get a room?”
More bitching and comments bounced off the walls. The four SEALs had their swagger back. Christy knew tonight they’d be celebrating—without Kyle, of course. She had plans of her own.
They loaded up in the Tahoe, Kyle pulling Christy into the third seat for some privacy. Christy felt her skin tingle as his thigh brushed against hers. He slipped his hand under her top and squeezed her breasts one at a time.
“Satin. Red satin,” he whispered.
“What? What are you talking about?” she asked. But he covered her mouth and flicked his tongue over her teeth.
When he pulled away, he whispered, “You once asked me what kind of underwear I liked. I like you in red satin.” One hand was finding its way down the front of her pants. She closed her eyes when his fingers rubbed over her nub and sought entry along the lacy opening at the top of her thigh.
When she opened her eyes, Fredo’s chin was resting on his two fists stacked on the back of the second seat. He had a very intimate view of what Kyle was doing, and wasn’t afraid to watch. Kyle hadn’t seen him.
Yet.
“Do your nipples get hard when he does that? I’ve just always wanted to know, from a woman’s perspective,” Fredo asked with a clinical air. The team guys burst into laughter.
Kyle raised his head and pushed Fredo so hard he almost slid off the bench seat.
Christy watched Kyle lean back, stretch, and look up to the headliner of the van. “We’ve got all night,” she whispered to the side of his face. “And your presence is required the whole time.” She smiled and saw her smile returned.
Gunny and Kyle shared a conspiratorial wink via the rear view mirror. They had something up their sleeve.
And Christy could hardly wait.
“Don’t know what it is, fellas. He gets kidnapped, he gets us running all over California looking for him, and he gets the girl. Armando, you got kidnapped and beat up real good, too. Where’s your woman?” Fredo was merciless.
Armando flashed a big white smile behind to Kyle. They hand slapped their greeting.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Armando cocked his head. “I’m hoping Kyle will introduce me here to her cute sister.”
The others chimed in, complaining about the lack of an introduction.
“Christy, this is the group. Fellas, this is Christy.” Kyle pointed. “This one is Cooper. We call him Coop. He hangs out at the beach a lot when we’re home.”
Christy nodded her head to Cooper.
“He brings his bedroom with him so he’s always ready,” Fredo added.
More laughter. Christy didn’t understand the statement and squinted.
“I’ll explain it to you later, baby,” Kyle said and kissed the side of her face. “This one, of course, is Armando. Saved my bones in BUD/S. Strongest swimmer on the team, too. And, as he’s already told you, he’s from Puerto Rico.”
“Nice to meet you, Armando,” she said.
“Nah, man. The pleasure is all mine.”
Armando could have easily been a cover model, or soap opera star, once his black and blue parts healed. His quiet demeanor and brilliant smile probably stole hearts on a regular basis, she thought.
“Wish I had a sister. But sadly, I’m the only one,” she said.
“That you are, my dear. That you are.” Kyle planted a long, languid kiss up the side of her neck, ending the kiss in her ear. “And I’m going to kiss every inch of you tonight,” he whispered, but his words weren’t exactly out of earshot.
She felt her cheeks flush as she watched the envious faces of Cooper, Armando, and Fredo. Even Gunny was watching in the mirror again.
The space between her legs ached and she was so ready to let Kyle do whatever it was he had in mind. As often as he had it in mind. “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” she said as she winked at Armando. She tapped Kyle’s lower lip with her forefinger and he sucked it into his mouth.
“So I’m the invisible Mexican now?” Fredo shouted. “No respect. This discrimination thing sucks, man. Really sucks.”
“Christy, this is Fredo.”
Fredo took her hand and, just like in a historical romance, brought it to his lips. “Alphonso Manuel Esquidido Chavez, mi lady.”
“Whoa. Alphonso?” Cooper teased. “All this time I never knew that was your fuckin’ name, man.”
“You didn’t ask nice,” Fredo answered.
Everyone left Christy and Kyle alone again.
“What’s the plan?” she whispered to Kyle’s lips.
“Shower and bed. In that order.”
“And then?”
“We’ll see. We’ll have to talk, Christy.” He drew her to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, at last.
Chapter 42
Gunny dropped them off at a boutique hotel near the Ferry Building. The rest of the guys were staying elsewhere. Disappearing, Christy thought.
The familiar ache in her stomach came back, just like the first night she and Kyle had stayed up nearly the whole night. Talking. Kissing. Making love. Until they both had fallen asleep, exhausted, entangled in sheets. Entangled in each other’s legs and arms.
At breakfast that first morning, she’d known her body was tired and that she had gotten so little sleep. But she’d willed herself to enjoy every minute in his presence. Just like today. She urgently needed a hot shower and then to feel Kyle’s hard body on hers.
She walked barefoot onto the plush flower patterned carpet of the hotel lobby, holding her remaining patent leather stiletto. It garnered some worried looks, but she was beyond caring. She wondered why she’d even brought the darned thing along. Kyle had his backpack and duffel bag slung over his right shoulder.
Gunny had made the arrangements, Kyle told her. He was very tight-lipped about what he knew, if anything. The front desk clerk asked if they needed help with their luggage and they both laughed. If the clerk only knew what the bags contained: enough firepower to start a war. Arm in arm, they walked down the hallway to the elevators. Kyle was deliberately slow and Christy found herself dragging him a slight bit. He wasn’t hesitant in any way. He was teasing her, looking at her with that crooked grin that hinted of things to come.
She walked backward, towing him, watching the way his beautiful body moved lithely at her command. At her beck and call. She blushed as she thought about what they would be doing shortly. Loving Kyle Lansdowne was way more than sex.
It was an art form.
“Remember that elevator ride from the model that first day?” she asked as she punched the elevator call button. The doors opened immediately.
Once inside, Kyle inserted the gold plastic room card above the bank of numbers on the elevator menu, and immediately the doors closed. “Of course I do.” His eyes swept up her body. He owned her. She wanted him to see it, and he did. He stepped to her and pressed her back against the walls of the humming elevator box, clutching her hands above her head, rubbing his erection against her thigh. They kissed, Kyle teasing her lips open, his need mingling with hers.
The doors pinged open and they found themselves in a mini anteroom. Its large windows framed breathtaking views of the pier and the San Francisco Bay. The glassy sparkle of cities across the bay shot up from the horizon like copper crystals.
Only one set of double doors lead off of this reception area. Kyle put his key in the slot. Christy heard it click, and the doors were opened to a warm room done in peach tones with equally stunning views of the bay, the bridges, and beyond. On one end, a mirror hung above a gas-fired fireplace, fully flaming
. On the other side, sitting atop a raised dais, was the largest bed Christy had ever seen. It was covered in a thick comforter of shiny rose pink satin and lace, littered with red rose petals and a smattering of multicolored silk pillows.
“Did you…” She couldn’t get the question finished. His mouth was covering hers again, and she melted into his arms.
Kyle’s hands found her flesh underneath her red top. He kneeled in front of her and pushed up the fabric to kiss her lower abdomen. His fingers kneaded her vertebrae at the back of her waist and then smoothed over her ass, finishing with a squeeze. He hugged her body, kissing and licking her belly button, making a wet trail with his tongue that went lower. He slid his palms down over her hips, hooking her black pants and panties along the way as he peeled her clothes down to her ankles.
She removed her top, tossing it aside, and stood before him, wearing only the expensive satin bra. She pulled his shirt up and over his shoulders and head. His fingers found the empty spot between her legs that needed to be filled. He slowly caressed the lips of her peach. Looking up into her eyes, he pressed two fingers inside her.
Christy melted, enjoying the sensation of being impaled by his fingers, which moved in a gentle rhythm. Practiced. Confident. Fingers she wanted all over her body.
She knelt down and joined him, leaning forward. She felt his chest against hers as flesh met flesh again. He hugged her tight, pressing her breasts against him.
Kyle’s belt was undone. She quickly slid his pants down to his knees and placed her palms on his shaft, lacing his length with her fingers. They held each other while blending in a deep kiss that sent her spine tingling. His stiff cock got in the way.
“Will you bathe me?” she asked.
“With pleasure.”
Kyle stood, bringing her up with him, and stepped out of his pants. They leaned against each other, fully naked. The honest look in his eyes told her she would remember this afternoon forever. There was nothing to run from anymore, and everything to savor and walk toward.
The bathroom was done in rich chocolate brown marble. Floors, walls, the massive roman tub and stall shower with dual heads were covered in the heavily veined stone. She entered the shower and turned on one spigot. Kyle took the other.
Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1) Page 30