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

by Leslie Johnson

  She blows out a breath. “It was nothing. I just freaked myself out. These guys knocked on my door saying they were maintenance and…”

  My balls tighten. “And what?”

  “It was nothing.” Her voice kind of squeaks at the end as the taxi we finally flagged down peals away from the curb.

  I look at Duff and he nods.

  Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I check the latest travel warning for Colombia. Nothing new. June of last year is the latest update and it’s the same as the previous couple years.

  “Camille, do you see this?” I hand her my phone and point out a line on the screen. The Department of State strongly encourages U.S. citizens to exercise caution and remain vigilant as terrorist and criminal activities remain a threat throughout the country.

  She swallows, but she also gets that mulish look I’ve come to know. “I’ll be fine.”

  I point out the next line. Explosions occur throughout Colombia on a regular basis. And then another line. Kidnapping remains a threat.

  “Read this,” I practically yell at her when she refuses to look, then read it for her instead. “Terrorist groups and other criminal organizations continue to kidnap and hold civilians, including foreigners, for ransom. No one is immune from kidnapping on the basis of occupation, nationality, or other factors. The U.S. government places the highest priority on the safe recovery of kidnapped U.S. citizens, but it is U.S. policy not to make concessions to kidnappers.”

  Her face turns even more stubborn as she pushes the phone away. “So you don’t even think I can take care of myself for three hours?”

  I want to turn her over my leg. Or kiss her. Or something. Instead, I wrap my hand around her scarf and tug, more gently than I want. I have to force myself to be gentle. “Remember this? You were robbed yesterday by a well-orchestrated set up. You were very lucky they didn’t know who you…”

  Fuck.

  I look at Duff again and he curses. Camille looks between the two of us. “What?”

  I wait until she looks me in the eye. “I’d bet my nut sack that the ‘maintenance’ people who visited you last night were very aware of who you are.”

  She opens her mouth and lets out a breathy, “How?”

  I inhale. “They took all your identification and probably the keycard to your room. Did you hear them attempting to use a keycard to gain entrance?”

  She doesn’t have to answer. Her eyes tell the story.

  “Camille. They took your Prada this and your Fendi that. Your expensive equipment. All they have to do is look at your ID and type your name into any search engine. Bam. Heiress. Billionaire. Bam. You have a target on your forehead.”

  “But—”

  “Dammit, Camille,” Duff shouts at her. “Stop arguing and listen. Tate’s right. I think you should cancel this entire shoot for now. Send everyone home. Pay them what you owe them. Schedule another trip here next year with even tighter security.”

  “No!”

  I see the cab driver startle and look into the rearview mirror at the three of us. I ignore him and look down at this stubborn woman. Her face is red and her eyes are shining. She’s never looked so beautiful.

  “Fine,” I hear myself saying. “Then I’ll stay with you until tomorrow. James will fly Duff home to Grace and come back for me in the morning, after we get you checked into a new hotel and I feel assured your security detail is adequate.”

  She glances up at me, but her arms stay firmly crossed over her chest. I haven’t seen her this angry since I’ve known her, and I feel like another layer of her personality has been revealed.

  Normally, she tries so hard to be positive, to make sure everyone is entertained or happy. She bends over backwards to make sure no one has a reason to say anything bad about her, because it seems to always become tabloid fodder when she does anything out of line. “No. Go. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

  She elbows me in the ribs, catching me off guard and Duff grins before he forces his serious glare back on his face. “It’s a good plan, Cam,” he says to her. “Stop being an ass and realize it.”

  She huffs and looks up at me. “I don’t need a babysitter,” she repeats, re-crossing her arms over her chest.

  I soften. “What do you need?”

  She swallows and Duff groans, turning to look out the window. “I need—”

  She squeals and we’re all thrown forward when the driver slams on the brakes and skids to a stop in front of the hotel. I reach out to keep Cam from ramming into the seat in front of us.

  “Damn, man. Not necessary,” I say to the driver and toss a few bills at him before stepping out of the car. Cam huffs and glares at me before wiggling her cute ass out behind me. Then she grabs her damn designer backpack thing and turns on her heel, leaving the rest of the bags to us.

  I watch her walk away, the high wedge heels of her sandals making her calf muscles pop just right. The swing of her hips in the short little silk shorts. The tan shoulders peeking from the halter top. Damn. She’s adorable. And sexy as hell. And a pain in my ass.

  I call after her. “Brat.”

  Less than fifteen minutes later, we’re saying goodbye to Duff. Camille’s crying again and holding him tight in her arms. “Tell Grace that I love her and am praying for Papaw Johnson,” she says. “And text or call me the minute you know anything. Promise me.”

  Duff kisses the top of her head. “I will. I promise. I need to go; the car is waiting on me.”

  She sniffs and lets him go.

  Duff steps over to me and we shoulder bump our version of a hug. “Hope Mr. Johnson is okay,” I tell him. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, man. I will. Be careful out in the desert.” He lowers his voice so Camille can’t hear. “Watch your ass. You’ll be high on the target list.”

  I nod. I’m very well aware of that.

  He pulls away and picks up his bag, giving us both a little salute. “Don’t kill each other,” he says with a grin, but I can tell he’s semi-serious.

  I close the door behind him, then secure the locks and chain before turning back to Camille who’s still crying, but now sitting curled up in a chair.

  “I’m going downstairs to secure a room for myself,” I tell her. “We didn’t finish lunch, so I’ll order something sent up. Want anything special?”

  She wipes her eyes and looks up at me. “You don’t need to get another room. You can stay here.” She swallows. “With me.”

  Damn.

  We’ve talked about this a thousand times. I don’t do overnights. I don’t do the romance shit that only leads to expectations and broken hearts. “Camille…” I trail off as she stands and walks over to me. “I thought you were pissed,” I finish lamely.

  She stops a foot in front of me, craning her neck back to look me in the eye. They are even bluer now with the red surrounding them. “Is the only reason you stayed because of my safety?” she asks.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Did you only stay because you’re worried about me?” Her teeth sink into her lower lip.

  I reach up and push her bangs behind her ear and she wraps a hand around my wrist, turning her head to kiss my palm.

  “Tell me, Tate,” she says and steps closer, but not close enough to touch. “Why did you stay?”

  So beautiful and tiny. So strong and vulnerable. Damn. I want her. Like I’ve never wanted anyone. And it scares the shit out of me. And pisses me off.

  But I tell her the truth. Always the truth. “I stayed because of you.” I reach for her, sliding my hands up her arms. “For this.” I pull her against my chest. “And this.” I lift her until her limbs are curling around me, her sex hot against my stomach, my hands palming her ass. “And this.”

  I take her mouth and she groans as we connect, her fingers stroking through my hair, pressing me tighter. I feel my tenuous grasp on control slipping as her tongue welcomes mine.
/>   “I fucking want you,” I say against her mouth. I catch her lower lip between my teeth and tug. She shudders and I do it again before sucking it into my mouth. She grinds into me, her sex moving up and down my abs. I pull her tighter, giving her more friction as my mouth devours hers.

  Walking us into the bedroom, I lay her on the bed, following her down. I lift my weight off, but she pulls me until I’m pressing her into the mattress. She groans and I capture the sound in my mouth as my tongue explores hers.

  It’s been so long since I’d been with a woman like this. Done more than just fuck. A wave of tenderness washes over me as she whimpers beneath me. I shake it away and raise up on my hands, looking down at her swollen mouth, her desire filled eyes.

  “Please,” she whispers and curls her fingers around my neck, then she cries out as I grind into her center. I grind again, my cock pressing into her sex through our clothes.

  “Please what?” I ask directly into her ear and bite into the fleshy lobe with enough force to make her gasp, then whimper.

  “Fuck me. Hard.”

  I nuzzle her neck. “I will, baby. I will.”

  Pushing back until I’m kneeling between her legs, I lift her foot and take off one sandal, running my tongue along the length of her arch. Her toes curl and I bite down on the big one until she arches off the bed. She mewls my name as I take her toes into my mouth, forcing my tongue between each one. Fucking them while her hands grab and twist into the sheets.

  I give her other foot the same attention before running my hands up her legs, pushing them further apart. Her shorts gape and I catch a glimpse of her panties. Ivory. My next target.

  Pulling the thin material of her shorts from her hips and down her thighs, I force myself to go slow, making her wait. Then my fingers skim up her thighs and to her waist, hooking under the hem of her little top, pushing it up her stomach until it’s over her head and tossed onto the floor.

  Inch by inch, her flesh is revealed until all that’s left is her bra and that sweet bit of lace between her legs. I pull the cups down and take a pink nipple into my mouth, rolling the other one between my fingers.

  “Harder, Tate. Hard. Please.”

  The words end on a groan as I give her what she wants, biting into her flesh and pulling her nipple deep into my mouth, sucking until she wails.

  Moving back to her mouth, I lift her until she’s straddling my thighs. My balls are burning now, my cock pulsing in my pants. Need is driving me, making me rough as I rip the bra straps from her shoulders, then toss her back down on the bed.

  She scrambles back up, her fingers pulling at my shirt, forcing it up my body and up my arms. It joins hers on the floor and her mouth is on my nipple, her fingers pulling at my belt, then at the button and zipper, urgency making them fumble.

  Stepping off the bed, I pull my wallet from my pocket and toss it beside her before shoving my pants down my legs, kicking off my shoes as I go. She’s off the bed too, her fingers in the waist of my boxers, pulling them down, her mouth greedy for my cock.

  I hiss as her lips take me in, her tongue dipping into the tip, her teeth scraping the shaft as she tries to take me into her throat. I watch her mouth stretch wide, wanting more of me until her eyes begin to water. I grab her hair, pulsing in and out, then pull out, giving her a moment to breathe.

  “More.” She looks up at me and licks her lips and I feed her my cock again. So sexy. Her pink tipped fingers circle my shaft, covering the part of me her mouth can’t reach.

  Twisting my fingers in her hair, I force her to her feet, then pull her head back until I take her mouth with mine. “I’m going to eat your sweet pussy now,” I tell her and she whimpers against my lips. “I’m not stopping until you come all over my face.”

  Shoving her backwards, I follow her down to the bed, forcing her legs apart as I go. I sink my teeth through the ivory lace and force my tongue through the material, into her.

  She cries out and twists on the bed, but I only force her legs further apart. I inhale, breathing in her scent, the unique flavor of her, before pulling the material aside with my teeth. It’s not enough. I reach up and pull until the lace shreds. I toss it aside, then settle between her legs for my feast.

  Dragging a finger up through her honey-slick folds, I watch the butterfly of her sex open before me. With my thumbs, I spread her swollen flesh even further apart, one layer at a time. She’s glistening. Ready for me. So fucking beautiful.

  “Tate, please.”

  She lifts her hips and her fingers find my hair, twisting into the strands, trying to force my head down. I look up at her, over the smooth mound of her sex. She licks her lips as I blow on her folds. Her eyes close, but I wait until they open again. I want her to watch me give her what she needs.

  In one quick movement, I run my tongue up her slit before capturing her clit between my teeth. Her eyes roll back and she writhes, crying out, her fingers pulling my hair as I suck the tight bundle of nerves into my mouth. Letting go, I retrace my path, plunging my tongue deep inside her sweetness. She twists and her hips buck violently as I invade her again, pumping my tongue in and out of her wet flesh.

  I release her hip and find her with a finger, sinking deep into her tight warmth while my lips pull at her clit.

  She’s so tight. So hot. I add another finger and scissor them to make her ready for me. She’s so little, I worry I’ll hurt her. Rip her apart.

  Cam’s body tightens as I stroke her deep inside, pulsing my fingers in and out of her with increasing speed. Her breath is ragged, the air ripping out of her lungs as I force her closer and closer to the edge.

  When she comes, my name is on her lips as she cries out, her entire body tightening, her thighs closing around my head. Licking her softly, I wait until she stops trembling, stops gasping for breath before I climb up her body, running my tongue up her stomach, over a nipple and up her neck. Finally, I capture her lips and whisper, “See how good you taste.”

  She runs her tongue over my lips and down my chin, wiping me clean before pulling on my shoulders until my weight is pressing her down.

  “Ready for me?”

  She smiles and pushes my hair away from my forehead before cupping my face with her hand. “I’m always ready for you, Tate.” Her voice is lower than normal, full of something deep and sexually raw. A tear pools and slips from the corner of her eye. Then she grins and reaches between us for my cock. “Always.”

  Chapter Eight – Camille

  He takes my mouth again, then he rolls away, reaching for his wallet and pulling a condom from inside. I watch as he rips it open and pinches the tip, then slowly rolls it down his length. I shudder, knowing he’ll be inside me in just a few moments, remembering how his size hurts me so very good.

  When he’s fully protected, he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed. My ass hits his thighs and he lifts my feet until they’re resting on his shoulders. I squirm as he pushes my legs apart.

  His eyes seem to glow as he lowers himself onto the bed, pressing my legs back to my chest. His cock nudges my entrance and I lift my hips, needing him inside.

  “Watch.”

  I follow his gaze and watch as our bodies connect, the tip of his cock spearing into me. I arch against the burn of being stretched, but don’t close my eyes as my body absorbs him inch by inch.

  When he’s balls deep, he takes my wrists in his hands, holding them over my head. My legs shake as pain and pleasure course through me. I’m at his mercy. Bound by him. To him. He rolls his hips, withdrawing just enough that I feel the loss of him before he fills me again in a soul shattering thrust.

  There’s a hard edge to Tate’s hunger right now. A deep, insatiable need that washes over my body, battering me like waves against sand. I love it. I love the way my breasts rock on my chest as each violent thrust vibrates through me. I love the ache in my hips when he lowers my legs to clamp around his thick waist.

  “Touch you.”

  I’m barely able to say the
words, but he hears me and let’s go of my wrists, grabbing my hair instead. He pulls and I arch into the pain. Arch in the connection of our bodies, even as I pull his mouth down for his kiss.

  I cry out, my body tightening again, racing toward the cliff and just as quickly falling off. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t give me time to recover from the orgasm, just slams into me, over and over and over.

  Without warning, he pulls out and flips me over, pulling my ass up to his mouth. His tongue washes over me, then lower, soothing the sting from his penetration. I push back into his face. Wanting more. Needing more. He gives it to me without hesitation.

  Moving behind me again, he grips me by the neck and pushes my face to the bed, until my cheek is lying on the sheet, my ass in the air.

  “Do you want this?” he growls and brings a palm down on my bottom.

  I cry out. “Yes.” I would beg if I needed to. I don’t need to. He brings his palm down again.

  Curling my fingers into the sheets, I surrender to everything he’s doing. Everything I’m feeling. So good. Everything is so good.

  Then his cock is back, slamming into me so hard I scoot forward a couple inches. I brace and push back against him, wanting more. He removes his hand from my neck and grips my hips, slapping against me so hard it sounds like thunderclaps echoing through the room.

  He fucks me mercilessly until I’m crying with the intensity of it all as he forces me from one climax into another. It’s insane. Wild. Primitive. My only wish is that I could see his face.

  The warmth of his sweat drips down on me and I push up onto my hands until my back is connected with his front. He’s slick with sweat. So am I. Our bodies slide against each other as though we’re underwater.

  Wrapping his arm around my waist, he flips us over until I’m on top. I laugh as he spins me until I’m facing him, his cock still deep inside of me.

  He grins. “You like that?”

  I nod, and he lifts my legs and spins me again.

  We’re both laughing when he sits up and the angle of his penetration changes. I moan in pleasure, unable to believe I still have any feeling down there.