Badass: Jungle Fever (Complete): A Billionaire Military Romance

by Leslie Johnson

  “If it makes you feel any better, my money is on the two of you killing each other. Not Grace though, she thinks you’ll hook up permanently.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You and Grace have a bet going on about me and Camille?”

  He grins bigger. “Sure do. She’s a romantic; thinks you two are perfect for each other. Hearts and flowers shit, and naturally, I don’t agree.”

  “That would be because you’re smart and you know me very well.”

  “And I know my sister very well too. She’s too much of a free spirit to stay in one place for too long. Always has to be moving, doing something.” He cuts his eyes toward me. “Kind of like you.”

  “Yeah, kind of like you used to be. Before you got neutered.”

  He grimaces and although I hadn’t meant it that way, I remember how he almost lost his dick in his last Delta mission. Lost a testicle for sure. “Marriage isn’t for everyone,” he surprises me by saying. “Kids aren’t either. It’s work. Sacrifice. Giving up a huge part of yourself every day. Somedays I’m good at it. Somedays I suck at it. I’m lucky Grace puts up with me either way.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m saying that neither you or Camille are the settling down type. At least not right now. I know I give you hell about it, but don’t settle down until you’re sure. Really sure. And don’t force it. Make sure it’s real.”

  Hearing the jet’s door open, I turn to where my pilot is standing at the front. “Let’s go, Dr. Phil. The bullshit is going to smell up my plane.”

  Duff laughs and slaps me on the back. “Let’s go bail out Cami, then I want to get home.”

  A few seconds after Duff knocks on Camille’s door, I hear the scrape of what sounds like furniture being shoved across the floor before the door is whipped open and there she is, smiling and squealing and jumping into her brother’s arms. She plants kisses on his cheeks, then squeezes him again. Duff’s laughing, hugging her back, swinging her around in a circle.

  A flair of jealousy hits and I quickly tamp it back. The tight connection between siblings is something I never had a chance to experience. But I’m happy for the two in front of me. Their older siblings are world class douches. I’m glad they have each other.

  Then it’s my turn and Camille launches herself in my arms, wrapping herself around me, holding tight. I’m surprised and it takes a few seconds for me to respond, stroking her back as her legs curl around my waist. “Don’t let go,” she whispers in my ear and my cock flairs to life in my pants. Then a door down the hall slams and I get it. She was putting on a little show for her assistant.

  Dropping her to the floor, I steady her with my hands on her shoulders. “Do I get a Grammy for that performance?”

  She has the grace to blush, but then hugs me again, even harder than before. “I’ll grow up someday, I promise.”

  She feels good in my arms. Tiny but strong. The warmth of her breath growing humid through the shirt on my chest. “You better before you’re seventy or those false teeth cleanings won’t be happening.”

  I can feel her grin as her arms close even tighter. “Are you going to spank me?”

  “Mmmm,” I growl into her hair, then inhale. She smells so good. “Is that what this is about? You want a pink ass?”

  Before she can confirm or deny anything, Duff curses and kicks open the door, then slams it shut with his heel once he’s inside. Camille laughs, a soft little sound that goes straight to my dick and her fingers dig harder into my back. “That wasn’t for show. I really, really, really want your hands on me.” Then she pulls back and looks up at me, her blue eyes serious. “Kiss me, Tate. I’ve missed you.”

  Walking her backwards, I pin her against the wall, then lift her until she’s eye level with me. “Kiss you, huh?” I nuzzle my nose against her cheek, forcing her head to the side and glide my teeth down her neck, feeling her pulse jumping under my lips.

  She moans and wraps her legs around my waist again, her fingers moving up to my hair. “So good,” she whimpers as I retrace the path up her throat and nibble my way across her chin. She’s breathing hard as I capture her lips, so soft and open, her tongue coming forward to welcome mine.

  Shit.

  Somewhere down the hallway, I hear a door click open. Cam’s legs only tighten, her signal that she doesn’t want me to stop. I don’t. I just deepen the kiss and feel her melt into me even more. And dammit, I feel myself melting into her.

  “I thought we were going shopping today.”

  The sharp female voice barely penetrates, but Cam seems to hear it clearly enough. She sighs against my mouth and unhooks her legs. I lower her to the floor.

  Turning, I don’t bother hiding my erection as I take in the rigid body language of Camille’s assistant, her jaw set so tight I’m not sure how she doesn’t break her teeth. She would be pretty if not for the ugly scowl on her face, the loathing in her eyes. Her jealousy exudes from every pore.

  I hear Camille take a deep breath. “Janine, good morning. Let me introduce you to Tate Rodgers.” Cam places a hand on my arm. I feel the vibrations of the light tremble in her fingers. “Tate, Janine Scott, my assistant.”

  Sticking out my hand, I hold it there while Janine crosses her arms over her chest and simply stares at me. “I’m her lover,” she says flatly and Camille inhales a sharp breath.

  “You look more like a hater from where I’m standing right now,” I tell her and withdraw the hand, settling it on Cam’s shoulder.

  Camille Duffy is one of the most frustrating women I’ve ever known. Complicated and simple at the same time. Strong and soft. Afraid and fearless. A contradiction in so many ways. And right now, she’s trembling and smiling simultaneously.

  With surprising speed, Janine snatches out and grabs Camille’s arm, attempting to pull her away from me. Camille gasps, but digs in her heels and tries to pull away. Instinctively, I grab her shoulders to halt the forward movement and Cam hisses as the other woman’s nails rake down her arm.

  “Let her go,” I say in a low voice and step between the women. “Now.”

  “Or what?” she snarls, then her face transforms into a dare. “Do you hit girls?”

  Tempting.

  I step closer, but am careful not to touch her. “Hitting won’t be required. I will simply protect Miss Duffy from you if necessary. I advise you not to make it necessary.” I leave it at that.

  Silence stretches and I get tired of this game, but don’t take my eyes off the other woman. I hate this. I’m not my father. I don’t hit women. Or kids. I watch a myriad of emotions flash across the woman’s face. Behind me, Camille presses her forehead to my back and says, “This is ridiculous. Let me go, Janine.”

  “You have three seconds to comply or I’ll use force,” I tell her just as Camille’s door opens.

  “What’s going on?” Duff asks and steps out into the hall.

  Janine’s face pales, but she lifts her chin, not letting Cam go. “Link Duffy, meet Janine Scott. The woman I’m about to lose my temper with.”

  Duff steps beside me and I watch Janine change tactics in front of my eyes. She goes from angry to grief stricken in a second and large tears drip down her face.

  Quickly dropping Camille’s arm, she cries, “I’m so sorry. I just love your sister so much. I thought he was hurting her.”

  Camille clears her throat and steps around me. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  Another door down the hallway opens and I suggest we take our little party inside. Camille goes first and I follow her in, making sure to stay between the females.

  Duff reaches for his wallet and flips it open, pulling out a single check. “How much?” he says to the dark haired woman as he searches the room for a pen. I watch the woman’s face closely and see the small look of satisfaction appear. It just as quickly disappears and her face immediately morphs into hurt.

  The bitch.

  She doesn’t care for Camille. She’s been a
fter the money all along. That split second glimpse gave it away.

  “You can’t buy me off,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not about money. I … love your sister and just want to be with her.”

  Pen in hand, Duff turns to Janine. He’s been through this game before too. “Being with my sister is a decision she will have to make, but you have ten seconds to make a decision of your own. How much?”

  Duff looks down at his watch and the brunette’s mouth tightens. I watch her eyes. She’s calculating her odds. Weighing the positives and negatives. Seven seconds tick by before she says, “One million dollars.”

  Camille gasps and sinks down on the small sofa to let her face drop in her hands. I curse, but don’t move from where I’m standing.

  Duff folds the check and stuffs it back in his wallet before tossing the pen back on the desk.

  “Wait,” Janine says quickly. “I’ll settle for half that.”

  “Sorry, you failed to answer the question correctly. Game over. I will pay to replace any items you lost in the robbery and I will pay for a first-class ticket for you to fly home. You will be reimbursed for any incidentals as well as the salary you would have received for this assignment.”

  Janine stomps her foot and takes a step closer to Duff. I stiffen and wait, turning so that I can check on Camille who hasn’t moved since she sat down. She’s beating herself up again, I can almost hear her berating herself. Compassion expands my chest.

  “You can’t do that,” Janine screams. “I’ve given up everything for her. I deserve more than that!”

  Camille’s head pops up and she stares at Janine in disbelief. “Given up? Deserve?” Camille stands and moves closer to the other woman. “What do you mean by that? I’ve known you for less than one month. We’ve been in each other’s physical presence a total of six days of that month. I’ve slept with you three times.”

  Janine’s chin lifts. “You promised—”

  “Promised what?” Camille demands, her face turning red in anger and I’m proud of her. Proud that she’s standing up for herself.

  Janine looks at Duff. “We talked about the future. About how good we are together. She made me believe we were soul mates. That she’d take care of me.”

  “That’s not true,” Camille insists, taking another step closer to the woman. “I never said any of that.”

  Janine’s mouth turns up in a smirk that makes my fingers itch to get rid of. “Guess it’s your word against mine,” she taunts.

  Duff opens his wallet again and Janine turns toward him, a look of satisfaction on her face. But this time he pulls out a card and hands it to her. “This is our lawyer. He’ll be getting in touch with you within twenty-four hours.”

  The brunette growls out a scream and stamps her foot like a child, ripping the card in two. “Little good it will do me. How can I fight against your money?” She sneers at Camille. “And you … flying first-class or private jets everywhere, staying in the nicest places, buying the most expensive clothes and equipment. And for what? So you can contrast the poor against the rich. Raise awareness of how bad some people have it.” A purple vein appears on her forehead and I watch it pulse as if clapping along with her words. “Does that make you feel better? Like you’re doing something useful with your selfish, egotistical and pampered life?”

  Rage infuses me. “That’s enough—”

  She turns on me. “That’s not nearly enough. I’m sick of the rich having everything and taking more. Attending charity events and thinking they’re doing something to make a difference. That’s bullshit and I thought she might possibly be different. But—”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “So what would you suggest they do? What should Camille do?” I purposefully ask her a question. Forcing her brain from the emotional side it’s currently stuck on to the logical side. Hopefully calming her down.

  “Give it to the poor,” she spits out after thinking about it for only a few seconds.

  I shake my head at her foolishness. Another human being with theories and concepts and no real life understanding of how those ideals would work. “Okay. Let’s go with your scenario of Camille giving away her inheritance. All of it, which is about one point two billion, if the last tabloid report is true. Is that what you think she should do? Give it all away?”

  Janine turns her eyes to Camille and glares at her. “Yes. All of it. No one deserves so much.”

  Turning her attention back to me, I say, “The US population is about three hundred and twenty million right now and approximately fifteen percent of those people live below the poverty line. That’s about forty-eight million people, right?”

  She gives me a blank look and I see her trying to do the math in her head. She finally nods.

  “Do you know how much money each of those forty-eight million people would receive if Cam gave it all away to them?”

  Janine lifts a shoulder, her mouth firmly closed.

  “Twenty-five dollars,” I say, giving her the answer. “Each. Not as life changing as you thought, right?”

  Her mouth falls open and then works up and down. Her perception of the world has cracked a little. This happens a lot, I’ve found. Bright ideas that dim in the light of reality. I feel a measure of sympathy for her. I used to be that way too. I lived on a soap box of ‘shoulds’, passing judgement on everyone around me. Hell, I still do to a large degree. Except now I judge no one harder than myself.

  “Listen,” I continue, less harsh but needing her to stop her shit. “I know life sucks sometimes, but being a bitch and trying to hurt someone else to get your share won’t make it suck less. The reality is that documentaries like what Camille is doing raises a fuck load of money and awareness for the poor. It funds schools. Equipment. Healthcare. Camille walks into an event and people’s attention fuses to that event. They support what she supports and triples the donations. If you love her so much, you’d support who she is as a person. You’d support the good she’s trying to do and not tear her apart. And, by the way, she gives away over a hundred million dollars every year. And guess what? You don’t know that because she doesn’t publicize it. She just gives.”

  Even as I’m speaking, I know I’m wasting my breath because Janine isn’t listening to a word I’ve said. She’s thinking of how to respond. What she should do next. She’s calculating her odds and attempting to see if she can walk away with something.

  I glance at Camille and she mouths ‘thank you’, her eyes shining in appreciation. She clears her throat and looks back to Janine. “As Link said, you’ll be reimbursed for everything you lost during the robbery. I have the list you provided to the police yesterday when we filed the report. You’ll be paid the contract amount for this portion of the job. As soon as your new identification and passport arrive, we’ll book your flight out. Until then, your accommodations will be provided.”

  Janine takes a step toward her. “Don’t. I’m sorry. I—”

  Camille holds up a hand. “I think you’ve said enough. Please go. Charge anything you need to your room. Your documents and reimbursements will be delivered to you as soon as they arrive.”

  Janine begins to cry and Camille swallows but stands firm. When Janine sees that Cam won’t break, she once again turns cold. It’s interesting to watch, the swift change of personalities. Interesting and disturbing to say the least. How in the hell did Cam get caught in this spider’s web? I thought she was smarter than that.

  “That’s very sweet of you, Camille, to fulfill your ethical obligations to me. I hope it helps you sleep at night.” Janine turns on her heel and marches to the door. “See you in the tabloids,” she says before the door slams shut behind her.

  Chapter Six – Camille

  As the echo of the door continues to resound in my ears, I still can’t believe that just happened. What the hell? I look at Link and then at Tate, bracing for his disapproval. Instead, he gives me a little smile.

  “You okay?” he asks and I nod. Surprisingly, I t
hink I am. Hurt. A bit discouraged. Still pissed at myself and my lack of judgement. My cowardice. And even sympathy for Janine and the hurt I caused her. I didn’t mean to. Yes, I wanted my space, but I never wanted all that to go down.

  And the last threat…

  “What do you think she meant by seeing me in the tabloids?” I look at my brother.

  Link turns the question back on me. “What do you think she means?”

  Then I remember. “Shit. She took pictures of me in Haiti. It was sunset…” I look at my brother and close my eyes as he covers his face with his hands. “But they were on my camera. Downloaded on my computer. And—”

  “And she had access to that computer?” Tate asks as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He punches the screen as I nod and puts the phone to his ear. “Same one that was stolen?”

  I nod and sink down on the sofa. I’d forgotten all about them still being on there. Janine had told me how beautiful my skin looked in the light and had convinced me to take off one more article of clothing. Then one more. Soon, I was down to nothing. She’d taken shot after shot, most of them silhouettes of me against the color stained sky. It was beautiful and special. And now it seems ugly and obscene.

  “Deakins, I need IT to eliminate some compromising photographs of Ms. Camille Duffy from any device Janine Scott could have had access to.” He pauses and gives me a little wink. “Yes, the same Janine Scott in which you’re preparing recovery documents. Have IT do a facial recognition scan for Ms. Duffy and transfer all images to a secure server. Scan videos as well.”