Warriors,Winners & Wicked Lies: 13 Book Excite Spice Military, Sports & Secret Baby Mega Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  “You’re not so bad yourself, darlin.’” His hands settled on the jutting wings of her hip bones. She’d always been tall and thin with a sweet, swayback posture, those little breasts, barely a handful, jutting proudly, nipples still as pink and perfect as he remembered. But his memory was of a lithe blonde riding him—this was some exotic blue-haired angel, Linney but not Linney.

  “Do you still like me?” She gave him a half-smile, running her own hands up over her ribcage, tweaking her nipples, biting her lip at the sensation.

  “Fuck yes,” he answered with great enthusiasm, pushing her hands out of the way so he could have them all to himself. He wrapped his arms around her, urging her near, lashing her nipples with his tongue. She mewed like a kitten, hands lost in his hair, hips rolling, his cock trapped between them, the crotch of her wet panties teasing him.

  “Come here,” he murmured, hands on her hips, sliding her. “I have to taste you.”

  “Mmmkay.” She wiggled up his abdomen, his chest, her slight weight barely registering. Then, balancing with one hand on the wall behind them, she stood, a vision with her long, long legs ending at the apex of her thighs, where a pair of light pink panties obstructed the view of what he wanted most.

  “I have a surprise for you.” She hooked her thumbs in the elastic band of her panties, easing them part way down. “Are you ready?”

  “What?” He raised his eyebrows, his already thick cock throbbing at the thought. “Are you shaved?”

  It wasn’t that unusual anymore—at some point, pubic hair had just disappeared. He loved pussy, bush or no bush, but fashion had seemed to dictate the removal of that last female vestige of body hair at some point between high school and now. The thought of seeing Linney shaved was almost disappointing—he remembered the sweet honey blonde wire of her fur, so light and sparse.

  “Not shaved.” She shook her head, biting her lip and sliding her panties down, down, down those creamy, pale, slender thighs, over her delicate calves, stepping down of them and leaving them on his chest while he stared at the wiry blue—blue!—hair between her legs.

  “I thought I’d make the carpet match the drapes.” She flashed him a devious little smile.

  He slid his hands up, up, up, using his thumbs to part her flesh, groaning at the sight of her. Just when he thought he couldn’t get any fucking harder—Christ!—she sank slowly to her knees, giving him a close-up view of her formerly blond pubic hair now dyed to match the hair on her head.

  “Who dyed it?” he asked, suddenly jealous. It was trimmed neatly, a pretty little powder puff triangle, so strange and exotic it made his cock throb with lust.

  “I did.”

  He grabbed her ass in his hands, yanking her to his mouth, unable to resist any longer. Linney cried out, hands flat against the wall above his head as he plunged his face between her legs, nosing his way into her flesh. His body remembered every sweet spot, his tongue flicking her clit, first one way, then the next, hearing her sigh and moan. He wanted to take his time, explore her, rediscover her, but Linney wasn’t having that.

  “Ohhhhh fuck, lick it,” she whispered, grabbing his hair in her fist, rocking and rolling her hips. “Oh God… oh God… please…”

  “Mmmmm.” He couldn’t say anything else, his tongue mashed against her clit, those amazing little blue hairs tickling his nose and cheeks as she worked her pussy against his face. She cried out when his fingers found her, slipping into her wetness, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it was going to feel when he slid his dick into her. His cock nearly exploded at the thought. She was all satin heat inside, her wetness delicious and irresistible.

  He lapped at her musk, drinking her in, drowning in pastels, the pink of her flesh, the soft blue of her bush, the creamy smear of her pussy juices over his cheeks and chin. He was in pussy heaven, the sound of her pleasure sweet music, so familiar, yet it had been years since he’d had Linney like this, riding his face like she couldn’t get enough of his mouth and tongue. She was perfection, her eyes closed, biting her bottom lip, head down so her long, blue curls grazed the hard points of her nipples.

  “Fuck! Levi! Ohhhh!” Her thighs shook as she came and he drank her in, all that sweetness, something he’d been missing so desperately—and yet he hadn’t even known. Linney bucked on top of him, her belly contracting, nails raking his scalp as she shuddered with her climax.

  “Mmmmm nooo,” he protested as she sat back on his chest, leaving a wet trail down his belly as she slid down to straddle his hips. He didn’t want to stop, never wanted that sweet taste to end. He could have gotten drunk on her all night long.

  “Mmmm yes,” she countered, reaching for his cock, slapping him playfully against her mound. And all that fascinating blue pubic hair. He noticed it was blond at the roots, growing out. That just made it sexier somehow.

  “Oh God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered as she sank slowly down, impaling herself on his length.

  He groaned, grabbing her hips, holding her still. She had a slick, velvet grip on his cock he knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist for long. Linney grabbed his hands, lacing her fingers with his and beginning to move. Fucccccckkk.

  “Linn,” he warned.

  She ignored him, closing her eyes, going for a ride. There wasn’t much he could do but hold on and enjoy the show. She was incredible, her hard, pink nipples playing peek-a-boo with her long, blue, wavy curls, her belly undulating as she fucked him, the silver piercing in her navel—wings, like an angel—winking in the light. His gaze drifted down to where they were joined, watching his cock appear, slick and wet with her juices, and then disappear once more, her swollen lips swallowing him again and again.

  “Ohhh God, that’s so good,” she moaned, her pussy grasping his cock, making him shudder with pleasure. He wasn’t going to be able to do this much longer. His balls were so tight they almost hurt. He wanted to come up inside her right then—but he never wanted it to end.

  “Please,” she begged, guiding his hand between her legs, rubbing her own clit with his thumb. He strummed her, lightly at first, watching her face as he rubbed her faster, faster. The more he rubbed, the harder she fucked him, reaching back and planting her hands on his thighs to give him better access to her clit—and making her pussy impossibly tight.

  “Linney!” he cried out as her pelvis slammed down, grinding into the saddle of his hips. “Oh! Fuck! Baby, you’re going to make me come!”

  “Yes!” she urged, riding him even harder, head thrown back, hair grazing his thighs, a low moan coming from her throat. “Ohhhhh yesss! I’m going to come all over your cock!”

  That was it. He couldn’t hold out any longer.

  The first wave erupted like a geyser and he roared, hips bucking up, taking her with him. Linney cried out, reaching for him, leaning forward to cup her hand over his between her legs and shuddering with pleasure. He felt her pussy spasming, milking his cock, the sensation so intense he thought he might pass out. The world tilted, the room fading and going black around the edges as Linney whimpered and collapsed onto him and he emptied himself deep inside of her.

  “Oh my God,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck, lost in a cloud of blue silk. “I’ve been thinking about that for weeks.”

  “I got that beat.” She kissed his cheek, brushing those perfect pink lips over his jawline. “I’ve been thinking about it for years.”

  He gathered her to him, pulling the sheet around them both, a little cocoon.

  She’s a keeper, Captain…

  Cricket was right.

  He regretted ever having let her go.

  * * *

  It was the sound of the neighbor’s Roadrunner that set him off. Not their old busybody neighbor on the left, but the tattooed, bandana wearing, Pall Mall chain-smoking kid who fashioned himself a “gangsta” who lived to the right. He drove a yellow and black Plymouth Roadrunner with a glass-packed muffler, a thick bass constantly thrumming in the back. He was the main reason Levi started covering the w
indows, drowning out the sound as well as the light.

  Since he’d been back, the veil between sleeping and waking had been thin. Cricket came out of his dreams all the time to talk to him—and things from the real world found their way into his dream world, permeating that barrier like ghosts passing through walls. Sometimes he woke, sure he was still dreaming. Sometimes he dreamed, sure he was still awake. There was no telling, anymore, which was which.

  The dream was never the same, but the feeling always remained—complete and utter regret. He made the wrong call. It was his mistake. He’d chosen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, things unfolding in a way he was powerless to stop. He could only watch, helpless, as his world crumbled around him.

  “Levi! Levi!” Thank God she used his given name.

  “No!” He roared, thrashing, fist pounding the pillow beside him, once, twice, faux feathers puffing up around Linney’s shocked, terrified face. Her head had been resting on that pillow just moments before.

  “You’re dreaming!” She gasped, hands reaching for him, soothing, dry and cool against the hot, sweaty surface of his flesh.

  “Wake up, Levi, wake up…”

  She murmured the words, almost like a song, petting his neck, his chest, moving in to rest her head under his chin, his heart still hammering in his chest under the soft press of her cheek. He wrapped an arm around her, hands still trembling with helpless rage—and now, with a terrible shame. He’d nearly pounded her head into the pillow! What if she hadn’t woken up? He could have killed her…

  “Shhhh,” she soothed, her hand moving over his chest, letting the hair curl around her fingers in the soft evening light. “It was just a dream.”

  Except they weren’t just dreams. Not when he came out of them fighting for his life.

  He ran a hand through his hair, staring up at the orange glow of the ceiling. The sun was going down. They’d made love—he remembered that fondly—and had slept for a few hours. Until his dream.

  “Tell me,” she urged. Her eyes were still closed, nails lightly stroking his damp skin. He wondered how long he’d been dreaming, thrashing, trying to fight against the inevitable.

  “I don’t remember.” It wasn’t a lie—the dream itself had already faded, lost in the horror of his half-awake actions.

  “Not your dream.” She looked up at him, touching his chin, tracing the very tense line of his jaw. “What happened on the jump? With Bernard Crick?”

  He gaped at her, breath caught in his throat.

  “I assume he’s the cricket on your arm. A memorial tattoo?”

  How had she known? Was he so easy to read? Maybe he was a bad liar after all. Then he remembered the dog tags hanging on his mirror. She’d managed to put two and two together.

  “It was a HALO drop.” He closed his eyes, whispering as he began to tell her. He’d only told this story a few times. Once during the debriefing. Once to a V.A. shrink. Once to Cricket’s mother, who had given him Cricket’s dog tags, telling Woody how much Cricket had admired his young captain in all those letters home.

  “A what?” Linney wrinkled her nose, frowning at him.

  “High Altitude, Low Open,” he explained, pulling her closer, for comfort and warmth. “Just a training mission. We jump high, open low.”

  She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. It was hard to form the words.

  “But it started at the bachelor party. One of the SEALS was getting hitched—”

  “Did you all have animal names?” Linney teased.

  “Navy SEAL, Linn. Sea Air Land. Navy Special Forces.”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “What did you do?”

  “Marine special forces.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent. “Anyway, there was a bachelor party and Fox talked me into going.”

  “See, with the animal names?” she teased.

  “Mike Fox. It was his actual name.” He couldn’t remember which one of them had been getting married. It was Fox who had pestered Levi until he gave in, suggesting to his own team that they attend the SEAL party. Admittedly, Fox hadn’t had to do much convincing. Woody had been known for never missing a chance to party. “Anyway, we went with this SEAL team to an uh… establishment… that night…”

  “I know what strip clubs are.” She smirked at him.

  “Yeah. Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “We were doing what all guys do at bachelor parties. Except while my team was all knocking out shots of whiskey, the SEAL team was throwing back water.”

  “They weren’t drinking?”

  “No.” He sighed. “I didn’t know it at the time, of course. Someone had tipped them off—I think it was Conti—because none of them were hung over the next day, so they were all tip-top for the extradition, while my team was staggering around like zombies.”

  “Wait…” She shook her head, trying to make sense of it. “Who’s Conti? What’s an extradition?”

  “Colonel Conti, from SOCOM—he was Special Forces command. He called me and the SEAL Team Captain into his office the next day and asked for my input. It came down to the lady or the tiger. That’s what Cricket called it. Do you know that story?”

  “One door is the lady, the other is the tiger. But it’s not a real choice. Either way, you lose. Right?”

  “Right. He said my team could choose to go on an extradition that night—”

  “A what?”

  “It’s where we go in and get the bad guy, let’s just leave it at that. And I can only tell you that much because it’s been declassified now. Anyway, Conti said we could do the extradition or we could back up the SEAL team and let them go in and do the job.”

  “You got to choose?”

  “I was the youngest captain in our unit and I’d worked my ass off to get where I was. So—off the record—even though Mike and I were the same rank, the colonel always gave me preference. It pissed Fox off to no end.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “So what did you choose?”

  “We were in no condition to do much of anything.” Levi frowned, remembering. “So I told him, ‘Sir, someone’s gotta be around to pull the SEAL team out—and I sure as hell don’t want my ass depending on the SEALS.’ The SEAL Team Captain wasn’t very happy about that.”

  “I imagine not,” she commented wryly.

  Fox hadn’t been happy about Levi’s response, but he’d been quite happy about the SEAL team being the one going on the mission. Mike Fox had gotten exactly what he wanted. If Levi had just left it there…

  “Look, my team was tired, we were hung over and God knows I didn’t want Conti to know that. Fox had led me into that damned strip club like it was a trap, letting us all get drunk off our asses. He wanted his SEAL team on the mission. Fine. Then I had to go and open my big fucking mouth…”

  Levi swallowed hard, blinking at the ceiling.

  “I asked the colonel what we were gonna be doing while we were waiting to go in and rescue the SEALS. I thought the SEAL Captain was going to lunge across the desk and break my neck.”

  “Always stirring up trouble.” Linney smirked, shaking her head.

  “So because I opened my big, fat mouth, the colonel planned a HALO drop right there on the spot for my team that afternoon. Thirteen-hundred hours. That’s one o’clock—it was about ten in the morning at the time.”

  “I know military time.”

  “The winds were fucking insane up there. Like I told you, chalk dropped at twenty-seven knots. But that wasn’t what…” He swallowed again, closing his eyes. “That isn’t what killed Cricket.”

  Her hand found his, linking their fingers, pressing it over his chest, his heart beating hard as he relived it all in his head.

  “You see, he hadn’t been drinking.” He gave a dry, humorless little laugh. “If that little fucker had been as hung over as we were, sucking down oh-two like it was laughing gas and popping Benadryl like the rest of my team, maybe he’d still be alive.”

  “What?” She looked at him like he was spe
aking a foreign language.

  “The Marines have a solution for everything.” He kissed the top of her head. “For a hangover, the prescription is pure oxygen plus Benadryl.”

  She laughed. “Does it work?”

  “Would I do it if it didn’t?” He snorted. “Works pretty well actually. Well enough to get us clear-headed enough for the drop. We went up as planned.”

  “But I don’t understand… did the oxygen help you somehow?”

  “We suck on pure oxygen before a HALO drop for at least thirty minutes. If you don’t have enough oxygen at that high of an altitude, you can get hypoxia. It’s like the Bends—a similar thing happens to deep-sea divers when they come up too fast.”