Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  “God, I’ve missed this…” I groan. My eyes are shut; little sparks and explosions are bouncing off the inky blackness, like a one-woman fireworks show.

  A pleasured grunt escapes Jax’s mouth. My fingers slide down his back and onto his tensed ass. It’s round and thick and there isn’t a shred of fat on it. It’s hard to believe it’s real. I squeeze the perfect sphere, wishing there was a mirror behind him so I can stare at it as well.

  Jax takes it as encouragement. I feel like a jockey, and I slap his ass, and he thrusts into me harder. I yelp as my pussy explodes with pleasure.

  “Again!” I growl. I slap his ass. This time, Jax takes his time. He forces me to wait, sliding his cock into me with deliciously slow, drawn-out intensity. My breathing is heavy and ragged. Little breaths escape my lips at random as sparks of pleasure shoot up and down my body. My nipples are little volcanoes on my chest. I feel like if I looked down, I’d see little pools of boiling lava appear. Jax bites my lip. It’s hard enough that little tears form in my eyes. I pay him back by squeezing his cock, grabbing both ass cheeks, and pulling him into me.

  Jax throws his head back. He lets out a long, animalistic, primal growl. It makes me shiver. I know that the man on top of me could do anything to me right now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. He can take me however he wanted. The thought doesn’t scare me. It excites me.

  Jax flips me around. He never lets his cock escape the warmth of my pussy. I spin in the air, and land with a heavy crash on my hands and knees. I yelp with pleasure, but Jax is far from finished. He slaps my ass this time; I moan with pleasure as a shock wave ripples through my body. I push my hips back, inviting him to do it again.

  “I’m going to make you come,” Jax whispers, quiet enough that I have to strain to hear it. The effort adds to the weight of his words. They fall like hammer blows on my desire, shaping it like glowing steel. “Make you come so hard you won’t forget it; make it so you can’t walk straight for a week.”

  I moan my approval. It’s all I can do. I know there’s no way my mouth can form any words, or my brain any thoughts. Not right now. I nod my head, and it collapses down.

  Jax finishes his sentence with a low, guttural growl. It sends a tremor of excitement through my body. My pussy clenches around his cock, as if inviting him on. He grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him. He slaps my ass one last time, and I rock with the force of electric shocks exploding throughout my body. I picture his red handprint forming on my pale, freckled skin, and I love it. It marks me as his.

  Jax starts to thrust like he never has before. His huge, muscled body slams into me with power I didn’t know was possible.

  “Yes,” I moan. “Don’t stop…”

  Jax squeezes my ass with powerful fingers. I push myself back into him, thrusting my entire body is hard as I can. Every time my ass collides with his thighs, my vision goes white for just a second. Sound and taste and smell and pleasure – they all blend into one.

  “I’m coming…” I groan.

  I feel Jax’s entire body tense. His breath is heavy and uneven and ragged, and then it stops entirely. His hands tighten around my hips and a heat blossoms inside me. We come together. I can’t hear, I can’t think, all I can do is collapse into the pleasure this man has given me.

  Jax pulls out of me. He’s slow, and careful, but I moan my disapproval. If I had my way, he would stay inside me forever. I feel empty without him – and cold. He pulls me in and spoons me, his cock softer now, and pressing against my ass.

  “Damn,” he says, with his lips an inch away from my ear. “I missed that.”

  I twist my body so that our lips meet. I still can’t believe this is real, that this is happening. But as long as it is, I’m going to savor every moment. Jax’s cheeks are red from the exertion. His blonde hair is even more messy, and his gray eyes somehow warmer. I savor the kiss. It’s long and gentle, soft and probing.

  “Me too,” I pant. “Don’t you dare leave me, you understand? You belong to me now.” I shake my head, almost disbelieving how good I feel. Every muscle is soft and relaxed. “I’m not letting any other girl have you … Have that!”

  Jax chuckles. “Believe me, Lex,” he says, using his old nickname for me. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

  He slides his bicep underneath my head, and I use it as a pillow. We lie there, clutching each other, for I don’t know how long: long enough that our breath merges into one. In, and out – we do it together.

  Jax freezes. I feel his body stiffen, and his arms tighten around me like he’s building a cage to keep me safe.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, concern making my voice catch. “Are you okay?”

  Jax holds a finger to his lips. His eyes are alert – but I don’t think he’s seeing. He’s tapped into something else, an instinct for trouble, maybe. He closes his eyes and lets out a short, swift sigh.

  “They’re here.” He growls.

  Chapter 7

  Jax

  I go straight for my gun. I release the magazine, tap it against the metal draining board, and push it home. I chamber a round and hand it to Alex.

  “You know how to use this?” I ask. I almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Cold desert air is kissing my ass cheeks, and I’m handing a weapon to a woman who I haven’t seen in years.

  Alex nods. She looks terrified. I wish there was another way, but if there is one, I can’t think of it. “Yes. What’s –,” she says, stumbling over her own tongue. She’s slow with fear and shock. I’ve seen it before in new SEALs – the first time they see combat. All the training in the world can’t prepare you for your first kiss with danger. And Alex hasn’t had any training.

  “What’s happening?” Alex finishes, stepping out of the bed. Even now, with her enemies – now my enemies – incoming, I can’t help but devour her body with my eyes. Alex Hunter is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll be damned if anyone’s going to hurt her on my watch.

  She looks out of a crack in the slats of one of the boarded up windows. “I don’t see anything.”

  I reach down and grab my jeans off the floor. I pull them on without bothering with underwear. “Listen,” I mutter. “They are a while out, yet. But they’ve turned off the highway. No one other than us has done that in months. I think it’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you?”

  Alex nods. I stand in front of her, wearing nothing on my upper body. I hand her the spare magazines.

  “This is all I’ve got,” I say, grimacing. If it was me, alone, it would be fine. I’ve fought in much worse places with less equipment. But now I’ve got Alex to protect, I’m cursing my decision not to bring more ammunition. “Make it count.”

  Alex’s eyes widen. “Where are you going?” She asks, the sound coming out in a worried gasp. “Don’t leave me all by myself. What if I can’t handle this?” She’s trying to hold it together, but her voice breaks and betrays her nerves. I don’t blame her.

  “I’m going to kill them before they ever make it in here,” I say. “But I know you, Alex. Whatever happens, you will be fine. You can handle this.”

  My voice is dead. I’ve fought in three countries, and killed men whose names I never bothered to learn. I was protecting my country. But, now, I’m protecting the woman I love. I’m not angry; I’m determined. There’s a difference. There is no way some Mexican gangbangers are going to make it through me to my woman. “And if something goes wrong, you’re going to keep pulling the trigger until their bodies look like Swiss cheese. Understood?”

  Alex blinks. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times as she comes to grips with what I’m saying. “That’s it?” She croaks. “That’s the plan?”

  I grin. “We move fast, baby, they’ll never see us coming.”

  “You move fast,” Alex hisses. Her eyes narrow at me, and she shoots me a deadly stare. “I just get to sit here waiting for someone to kill me. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  I shrug. “War isn’t fair,” I say. “Bu
t this way is better; trust me.”

  Alex holds my gaze for a long time without looking away. She looks every bit as fierce as any soldier I’ve ever fought beside – even with her tits out and her nipples as hard as cut diamonds. Finally, she jerks her chin at me. “Fine,” she grunts in a voice that tells me she’s anything but. “But don’t you dare die out there. Understood?”

  I take a couple of paces towards Alex’s naked body. Damn, if the Navy gave every SEAL a woman like this, morale would be sky high. I grab one of her perfectly round ass cheeks and pull her into me for one long – and definitely not last – lingering kiss. “Trust me, baby,” I grin. “If the Taliban couldn’t kill me, these bozos won’t be able to either. Not when I got you to come home to.”

  Alex’s eyebrows wrinkle, though a flare in her eyes tells me she liked the compliment. “Judging by the patchwork of scars on your chest,” she says in a voice that is decidedly unimpressed. “You’ve not been as lucky – or as good – as you think. So maybe take them just a little bit seriously, okay honey?”

  I finish dressing, throw on a T-shirt to evade her uncomfortable stare, and lace up my boots. I grab the rifle and fill my pockets with bullets. I move around experimentally. Every time I move, I clink like a field scarecrow: not exactly stealthy.

  “You got it,” I assure her. I put my back into the couch and grind it towards the door. I glance at Alex one last time. “When I’m gone, you close it and don’t let anyone in – okay?”

  A ray of moonlight bursts through the shuttered windows, and paints a pillar of light on Alex’s naked chest. It lights up her face too, like a camp leader telling a scary story. What I see twists my gut: she’s looks pained; horrified; terrified.

  Alex flies towards me and kisses me again and again, on both cheeks and then my mouth. “Don’t you dare die on me, okay?” She whispers. “I only just got you back.”

  I don’t smile this time. I hug her tight. “I could say the same about you.”

  I turn to leave. I squeeze myself out of the tiny gap I left between the couch and the door. As my boots crunch against the rocky desert soil, I’m sure I hear a whispered breath behind me.

  “I love you too…”

  I head into the desert, holding the rifle diagonally across my body. I’m ready to take on anyone who threatens my girl.

  I hear the car a long time before I see it. It’s creeping down the dirt track, still a hundred yards away, with its lights off. I guess whoever’s inside is trying to be stealthy. My lip curls into a disapproving, disgusted scowl. If one of my sailors had pulled a stunt like that, I’d have knocked them ten days from Sunday. For the sake of not getting their brand-new sneakers dirty, the punks inside just signed their own death warrant.

  Still – I’m not complaining.

  I feed the rifle’s magazine, and hold a round ready in the chamber. I bring the rifle to my shoulder, but it’s too dark to make the shot. I don’t know how many men are in the car. If I kill one, and four more pile out – scurrying like rats in every direction – then I might not be able to finish the rest of them off before one gets to Alex.

  I wait.

  I move through the desert, crouching behind rocks and scrubby, dried out bushes. It’s not perfect terrain, but whoever’s in the car is no soldier. “Come on: show yourselves,” I mutter, staring down the rifle’s iron sights.

  But I don’t get that lucky.

  The car comes to a halt. The driver kills the engine. Nothing happens for a few seconds. I keep my rifle trained on the vehicle. My finger caresses the trigger.

  The sound of a car door opening splits the night. I watch as a dark chasm opens up by the front of the car, and the back. A man steps out of each door. It’s too dark to make out any features, but the moonlight glints of the weapons in their hands. They are carrying pistols, at least, not rifles.

  Two, then.

  I heave a sigh of relief, and make ready to fire. I lie down on my belly, and rest the rifle in the crook of my shoulder. It’s the same distance as the rusted oil barrel that Alex filled with holes an hour ago. I could make this shot in my sleep. My finger caresses the trigger. I slow my breathing. I aim.

  And I freeze.

  The far passenger door opens, and a third man steps out of the vehicle. He’s shorter, and mostly hidden by the car. I grimace, and grind my hand into the dirt beside me to burn off some frustration. His appearance changes everything. I can’t go for the easy shot, not anymore. I have to go slow, and play the long game.

  I hear a low murmur of conversation. It’s in accented English – Spanish, to be precise. I chew my lip. Alex was right to think it was the Mexicans who were after her.

  I hop up to my feet, staying low. These guys are about to find out what happens when you threaten a girl that I love; the only girl who’s ever loved me back.

  I walk down the side of the dirt track, stroking the dust with the sole of my boot before I make the next step. I’ve done this a thousand times. These pukes won’t hear me coming until their blood’s flowing into the sand.

  I hear the metallic groan of a pistol’s action sliding back, and the click as a magazine is shoved into place. I can’t help but shake my head. These guys are rookies: amateurs. If a sailor in my troop ever made this much noise, I’d have strung him up off the bow myself. An hour of dangling over foaming seawater has a way of focusing a man’s attention.

  I lie down on my front again, taking shelter behind a slight bend in the track. A small, dead bush is my only cover. But it’s dark, and by the time the Templars round the corner, they’ll be dead. At least, that’s the plan.

  I lie and wait. In a few seconds, I hear footsteps. A cold chill descends over me. You can be as brave as you like, but if you enjoy killing, that makes you a psychopath. It does in my book, at least. When I kill, I do it because I have a reason: because my country calls me to serve in that fashion, or to save my woman’s life. But judging by the carefree, relaxed manner in which these gang bangers are striding up the path, they aren’t from my school of thought.

  These men are murderers, through and through. That’s what will let me sleep like a baby tonight. I breathe, and wait – just a few more seconds. There’s no honor in killing men in this fashion, but it’s a job that needs to be done: pest control.

  Crunch, crunch. I hear stones ground to dust underneath heavy boots. I hear the snick of metal as a couple of magazines clatter against each other. Then the first man is in sight. I wait until I can see the outline of the second man, and then I open fire.

  My finger pulls back on the trigger, and the rifle barks in my hands. It kicks into my shoulder like a horse, but I absorb the blow without as much as a grin. By the time the first gang banger’s body falls to the ground, I’ve already trained my sights on the second.

  “Holy –!”

  I put a bullet through his bald forehead before he has a chance to finish his profanity. His body drops to the ground with a whoomph of air being forced out of his clothes.

  “Shit,” I grunt. I wait a few more seconds, but no one rounds the corner. I cock my ear, but I don’t hear the sound of panicked footsteps starting against the dirt track.

  My training kicks into action. I screwed up. There was nothing I could have done instead – no firing angle I could’ve chosen, but if Alex dies, that won’t mean shit. I leap to my feet and eject the magazine in one smooth movement. I loop the rifle strap across my shoulder and feed the starved, dented black magazine with fresh rounds.

  I know exactly what the gang bangers’ plan was. Take two men down the center of the track as a distraction, and have the last hit from behind. I’m just praying that Alex took the sound of gunfire as a warning.

  “I’m coming, baby,” I whisper, sprinting down the track. I grab the rifle once again and slam the fresh magazine home. “Don’t you die on me, now.”

  I say it like a mantra. I’m not going to let Alex die; not now that I’ve found her after all this time. We are going to live happily ever after, damn it.
I’m going to live that white picket fence dream with her. We’re going to have kids: as many as she can pop out; and we’re going to give them the best damn life we can.

  I promise.

  I slow my run as I come up on the silhouette of the cabin. It’s bathed in moonlight. “Crap,” I swear under my breath. I can’t cover the cabin from every side. No matter where I stand, half of the cabin will be out of my firing line.

  I creep forward, rifle nestled in my shoulder. The weight of the stock is comforting. I’ve spent so much time around guns in the last six years I feel naked without one. I can’t see the last gang banger anywhere near the front of the cabin. I chew my lip, wrestling with what to do.

  Shots ring out on the far side. A crackle of gunfire destroys what was left of the night’s quiet calm. It’s 9mm gunfire – from a Glock. My blood freezes in my veins. I try to cry out a warning, but it dies in my chest. I can’t see to my left or right. I sprint towards the cabin.

  Twenty yards; then ten.

  Five.

  “I’ll shoot!” Alex’s panicked voice screams into the blackness. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot. I killed your friend already, believe me, I’ll –.”

  “Alex!” I yell towards the cabin. I hold the rifle tight in my hands like a safety blanket. My heart is beating in my chest. It feels like a moose is kicking my rib cage. She’s alive. Thank God she’s alive. “Alex, it’s me. Baby – are you okay?”

  All I get is silence.

  Alex doesn’t say anything, not for the longest time. “Jax?” She says in a voice that’s weak and quavering. She sounds as if all the adrenaline in the world is draining out of her system. I’ve been there. I know the feeling. “Is that you?”

  “I’m here, Lex. I told you I wasn’t going to die on you.”

  A sob breaks the stillness of the night. The sound of Alex’s terror breaks my heart. I wish that I’d been able to take care of them all; to stop her from having to use the gun. Once you’ve killed a man, you can never take it back. You can never be the innocent person you were.