by Angel Payne
“Damn.” He choked it out, now petrified to look away, certain that a break in concentration would take him back to the white-walled prison and the gurney. “This has to be a dream.”
Zoe gently shook her head at him before taking more of his length into her mouth—and now her throat, too. When his hoarse groan resounded through the bathroom, she deepened her pressure and mewled around him in subbie satisfaction. He still wasn’t convinced this could be reality, but he made a vow: he’d stow the doubts and simply enjoy every new journey into the honeyed heaven of her mouth. If he tumbled back into the nightmare, he would do so with a grin on his face.
It was paradise. She was paradise. With every embrace of her tongue, squeeze of her mouth, and kiss at the back of her throat, she took his dick to realms of pleasure it had never felt before. The cascading water and the rising steam turned the shower into their own tropical grotto, complete with the passion all the tourist guides promised but never delivered. A postcard he’d cherish in the scrapbook of his mind forever…
Which meant he needed to get in the picture with her.
The effort wasn’t hard. His inner caveman had already been roused by the efforts of trying to keep her out of here, a mission of insanity if he’d ever known one. He let the Neanderthal stomp free while lifting his hands to her hair and tunneling them deep. The strands were wet and thick between his fingers, perfect for aiding his control. Zoe’s high sigh of response told him she had a fondness for primeval man, too. A veil of serenity seemed to fall over her face, all her sass relinquished to the joy of letting him rule the cave for a while. And Christ, did the look work for her. She was breathtaking, his enticing one-night trinket transformed into one of the best gifts fate had ever given him.
And coming down her throat was going to be his big red bow to finally pull free.
But something happened on the way to unwrapping the present. As Shay began fucking her mouth in earnest, sliding himself in from crown to base in long, commanding stabs, Zoe’s answering moans, harsh with desire, hitched at instincts even deeper than his caveman.
He didn’t want to come without her.
He needed to watch the big red bow open for her, too. Needed to see every second of her climax race across her exquisite face, knowing he’d made it happen…letting his tiny dancer spin in the enormity of her submission.
The commitment sealed itself in his spirit, lending his muscles the fortitude to push her free. When Zoe glared up at him, he simply jerked his head, directing her to the tiled ledge inlaid into the shower. “Plant your sweet ass, baby girl.” He weighted his growl with enough gravel to let her know that denying the order shouldn’t be a fleeting thought in her head.
He pivoted a little as she settled onto the seat. Sweet fuck, she robbed his breath, with the shower light playing over her drenched skin and her hair trailing like exotic black snakes against her erect olive breasts. His dick swelled again simply from gazing at her, and he made no secret of that fact to her wide indigo stare.
“Spread your legs.”
She obeyed without a word, exposing the dark pink fruit of her pussy. His lungs held onto his breath again, likely jealous of the treat laid before his eyes. Fucking stunning. She was his own slice of sinful fruit from the bacchanal gods, kissed by nectar, fascinating as a flower—waiting to be stabbed open and decimated.
Which meant the dagger had to be perfectly prepared.
He raised a hand. And began stroking himself.
Zoe’s breath audibly hitched. She gazed without blinking, mesmerized by the sluice of the water and his fingers over the length of his dick. Her gaze heated, and she ran her tongue eagerly over her lips.
“No,” Shay ordered. “You only watch now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He rubbed again, dragging hard at his crown, grunting from the mix of agony and ecstasy. “Like what you’re seeing, baby girl?”
She pulled in a labored breath. “Very much, Sir.”
“You want it to fuck you?”
An adorable little hum spilled out. “Dios. Oh yes, Sir.”
“I don’t have another condom.”
She turned her head up to directly meet his gaze. “It’s all right. I’m tested during my yearly.” A funny wince creased her features. “And there hasn’t been anyone to worry about for that year, anyway.”
“A year.” He released a wry laugh. “Longer than that for me.”
Her gaze widened. “What?”
“Afghanistan for a year, Cameron Stock and his gang for six months. Take a guess which one limped-over the sex drive the most.”
She tipped her head to the side as if to agree, though she gave a wry smile while stating, “It’s a major upset to the cosmic balance to think of your sex drive and ‘limp’ in the same sentence.”
Shay chuckled. But only a little. “Oh, dancer, you have no idea…especially with you looking like the juiciest fruit in the jungle like that.”
He expected a giggle from that. To his surprise, her stare went mushy, instead. Really mushy. The thick tears turned her irises mysterious as midnight once again.
Shay dropped between her knees and grabbed her waist, yanking her close and kissing her hard. “Hey…what is it?”
She shook her head, one of those dismissive girl things that normally drove him ballistic, until she whispered words that slammed his chest like thunder and his spirit like lightning. “Every word that comes out of your mouth…it’s like you’ve excavated my mind and pulled out the things I crave to hear.” She lifted a wobbly smile. “The things…I need to hear.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She tried to shrug that one off. Shay forced her gaze back to his with a thumb beneath her chin. She flipped his move on him, dipping her head to tenderly kiss the pad of his thumb. “I’d lost hope of being special to someone. Of being…good enough.”
“Christ.” He silenced whatever the hell else she had to say by sealing his mouth over hers again. After releasing her from the kiss, he didn’t let her go from his grip—or his stare. “You’re not ‘good’, tiny dancer. You’re fucking perfect.”
More mush. A lot more. Shay didn’t care. Maybe he did have the power of reading her soul, but maybe that was because his already knew it…recognized it as the universe’s answer to his own. But how much of that soul was still his own? How much of him was him, and how much the beast that had been roaming through his blood for twenty years? How much of himself would be left once he found out? And how free would he be to express it? The government was surely hunting for him now. Cameron, missing after the raid, was probably seeking out his ass, too—and more than that, if he’d started connecting the dots and figuring shit out.
A lot of questions. A lot of answers he didn’t have. He only had the fulfillment to one unknown, and that was the certainty of here and now. In this incredible moment with this pure gift of a woman, the man in his heart and the human in his soul would give her everything they could, for as long as they could.
That deliverance began with the very next kiss he lowered to her, plunging into her with all the desire in his body, the spiraling need in his blood. He could be the embodiment of perfect for her, too—at least in assuaging the sexual fever that stormed between them. He groaned as Zoe met him for the quest, surging her breasts into his chest, roping her arms around his neck, and tangling her hands through his hair. As their kiss ended she added a sweet vibration in her throat, erupting off her lips into a whimper that jolted down his body, into his ass then straight up his cock.
“Ohhhh, Sergeant Bommer…”
Her breath was half plea and half query. It was fucking adorable—and turned his shaft into a goddamn missile, ready to be fired.
“You rang, ma’am?” he teased in a sultry drawl.
“No ringing,” she panted. “Just need. Need. Need.”
“Need what, baby girl?”
“Fuck me, Shay. Please. Now.”
By now, he’d guided the tip of his sex to the wai
ting tunnel of hers—and could even feel the lips of her pussy, eager and hungry, struggling to draw him in. But he held his position, gazing down at her upturned face, and softly told her, “No.”
Zoe’s brows lowered. Her lips pursed. “Huh?”
Even as she snapped it, he nudged his cock another inch into her. Her confusion was pretty damn cute.
“I said no,” he repeated—while stuffing into her by another hard inch. “No fucking, Zoe.” He rolled his hips now, surging into her with sensuality instead of sexuality, letting her feel every last sensation of his bare skin against hers. “Entering. Merging. Joining. Uniting.” He smiled a little, exulting in the effect of each word on her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, even the gorgeous sweep of her neck, moving with her heavy swallow.
“And feeling.”
Her whisper fanned his lips. He answered her with a soft smile.
“Yeah. And feeling.”
“And how does it feel?”
His lips dropped as his jaw clenched. “Like perfection.”
Like home.
He kept the addendum to himself. He had no right to fill her head with fantasies like that. If things weren’t complicated enough before the little come-to-Jesus gig with Ghid last night, they sure as hell were now.
For now, this was what he could give her. Not just his body, but his passion. Not just his kisses, but his adoration. Not just a fuck, but a union.
Everything except the seed that pummeled at his balls now, ready for its rocketing release. Still, he held back. Her skin was so slick and wet and tight around his, as if her body were made to cushion and welcome him. He tried rocking a little slower, focusing on the pleasure that gleamed all over her soaked, flawless body. For a few seconds here and a few seconds there, it worked. He was able to forget about the pressure that built like a goddamn bullet train, preparing to shoot from the station as soon as he punched the green light.
By now, Zoe rolled her hips in time with his, meeting every thrust with a mewling grind of her own. “Shay,” she cried out, plowing her nails across his shoulders, locking her legs around his waist. “Oh Shay…mas duro…sí!”
He was pretty damn sure what that meant, and it made him grimace. “Baby girl, if I don’t pull out now—”
“I know,” she countered. “I know, and I don’t care.”
Fuck.
He scraped both her hands off his shoulders. Used his grip on them to force her attention. And that was such a swift move, because looking that direction ensured he’d get a great view of his dick disappearing into her body. “You have to care. We’re not sixteen. We’re not married.”
She flung him a look he’d never seen on her face before. One brow arched along with a sexier-than-shit wiggle of her head. “So if I find you in a month and tell you I’m knocked-up, you’ll do…what?”
He actually came to a full stop. The woman was either the smartest bird he’d ever met, or the biggest brat. Or maybe both.
Probably both.
“Throw a fucking party. Then make sure I never let you out of my sight.”
Her expression changed by one more element. The luscious little grin that spread across her lips, sparking the most breathtaking blend of blue and purple he’d ever seen in her eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”
He grabbed her by the neck, kissing her harder than ever. He’d always avoided talk of babies, even when they happened to other people. In his life, “family” wasn’t a word that brought fond memories of Scrabble around the fire, themed birthday parties, and vacations at the lake. The species could propagate without his help. But now, thinking of Zoe with a little basketball belly, growing with his child…
He plunged his tongue even deeper into her mouth. Claiming her had never felt more important.
“Are you sure?” he murmured when they finally dragged apart.
The woman had the gumption to roll her eyes at him. “You going to keep yakking at me, Sergeant, or are you going to do something better with that steel between my legs?”
Goddamn. Her naughty mouth made his shaft feel like real steel. As he lunged up into her, reveling in her stunned gasp and arched neck, he snarled, “Like make you ride it, baby girl? Like this?”
She cried out as he drove into her even deeper. “Sí, my Sir. Just—like—ohhhh!”
Forget the pretty adjectives. It was time to fuck his gorgeous little subbie. To drive her high and hard into the stratosphere of her pleasure until her walls converged on his cock and milked his seed deep into her body.
Like so many other things in this unexpected explosion of their relationship, it was a bungee jump of faith. A wild belief in what could be. Another careen into crazy.
In all the most perfect ways.
* * * * *
Where the hell had forty-eight hours gone?
For the first time since he was a kid on summer break, time had been pressed into a strange mix of both the meaningless and monumental. The little things just didn’t seem to matter anymore, while the big stuff, like spending as much time as possible with his brother and Zoe, were now Shay’s hugest priorities.
Because in every damn minute of those precious hours, he never forgot the price he paid for them.
Conveniently, the monsters had left the tags on the merchandise. Every row of stitches was a fresh reminder that this respite wasn’t going to last forever…that the boys in the land of the thick black thread were hunting for him even now.
He’d only go back to that hell in a body bag.
Put the morbidity away, shithead. Enjoy the moment, remember? The sun is shining. The sky is blue. Your subbie is smiling and you should be, too.
Dr. Suess had to take a back burner, too. Shay looked up to endure a skewering from his brother’s sarcastic stare. He wasn’t sure if the reason for the eyeballing was good or bad so he waited for Tait to wrap his call to Kauaˈi and walk back over to the pool cabana that Dan and Oz had secured for their use during the afternoon.
A victorious shriek from the plunge pool grabbed his attention. Ryder and Zoe were Ellie and Brynn’s opponents in a water volleyball game, and it looked like Zoe was ruling the action. Shay smiled at the joy on his subbie’s face. Though Dan and Ghid had decreed it was best for Zoe’s friends to stay here since their homes were likely still being watched, the edict had valuable residual benefits. Seeing her rested and content provided a glimpse into a future he was determined to fight for. To live for.
Zoe spiked the ball over the net for another team point. Ryder whooped and high-fived her. As Zoe jumped to meet the move, sunshine and water gleamed across her body, clad in a pink bikini he loved and hated for all the same reasons. The thing was only held on her body by little string ties…
Time to adjust the towel in his lap.
As he slid the cover higher, he mandated himself to focus on something else. It was a damn good thing the Vdara had all these pools. Another that they were the only crowd at this one. The first time some douche ogled Zoe with the same intent that burned his mind right now, the guy would probably be without a dick.
Sprawled on the cabana’s second lounger, Dan glanced at him and chuffed. “Fuck, man. Put us all out of your misery and make her throw on a T-shirt.”
“Sure,” he sneered. “And that’ll make a difference…how?”
Colton frowned, genuinely confused. Shay would’ve laughed if his imagination weren’t on fire with the answer to that. Getting to the bikini top would be just as much a no-brainer for him if Zoe wore a T-shirt. As soon as he had her pretty tits free of the little pink triangles, he’d enjoy hardening her nipples right through the shirt’s fabric—with his tongue. Wouldn’t be long before he pulled the strings off the bottom of the suit, too. Then he’d slip inside her wet tightness, taking her in a long, luxurious fuck that would give her at least three orgasms before he started pounding harder, and—
“Well, Kell got home from training,” his brother announced, “and took a break from screwing our subbie in the rain in order
to relay his asshat hello to everyone.”
“Awww.” Dan smirked. Thanks to polishing off a bottle of Glenlivet with Tait the other night after Shay had disappeared into the bedroom with Zoe, the agent was fully updated about Tait’s unique relationship status back on the island—and enjoyed ribbing T about it whenever the chance arose. “Is somebody’s dunking his head in a big ol’ barrel of oh-poor-me?”
“Bite me,” Tait drawled.
“No, thank you,” Dan quipped. “But maybe your brother’ll be up for the task.” He whacked a hand to his thigh. “Oh, damn. Wait. The only person he’s ‘up for’ these days is currently leading the spike count in the volleyball game.”
Shay snorted. “And boy, do I have a celebration trophy for her.”
Dan snickered. “Make sure she kisses it after she holds it up.”
“She always does.”
“Then you gonna show it off to T?”
Tait glared while dropping into a chair then adjusting the discomfort of his junk. “You done with your fun yet, teabaggin’ Tex?”
“Gah.” Shay threw the orange peel from his drink, hitting the center of T’s chest. “Dude, I can’t believe you reached for that one.”
Tait laughed and tossed the fruit back. “I’ve had to step up my game. I think the SHRCs are going to petition for shit-slinging as an Olympic event.”
Dan’s brows hunkered. “For the winter or summer games?”
“Probably winter.” T took a sip of his own drink. His had a pineapple instead of an orange. “They could stick it in during lulls in the curling matches.”
Shay rolled his eyes. “Isn’t curling one giant lull?”
“You have a problem with curling?” The charge came from the cabana’s newest guest, a scowling Ghid. As usual, the man wore a dark T-shirt to completely shield his back, joined by black nylon shorts and a pair of flip-flops. “You know what kind of skills are required for that sport?”
While Ghid grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, Shay kicked his chortling brother in the shin. Hell. T of all people should be sympathizing with Ghid’s tension, misplaced this time to a rant about big stones, little brooms, and a lot of ice. Personally, Shay shared Tait’s point of view—a real sport usually involved protective gear and blood—but if Ghid wanted to bluster again about the guy he caught counting cards last night, he not only understood, but supported it.