From the moment they met her, she felt like one of the guys. He didn’t mean that in a derogatory way, either; she’d felt like part of their unit, part of the squad, almost as if she’d been with them from the beginning. Sam had worked with a lot of female Marines over the years, and he’d come to respect the particular combination of brass and sass that made those women strong enough to stand up to a bunch of muscled-up meatheads with diesel for brains. Not that he thought most women were too delicate to withstand such a thing—not at all. But the female soldiers he’d known had a certain quality about them, a certain air, that made them stand on a higher pedestal in his own mind. They had to work ten times as hard to get respect in the military, especially in the Marine Corps. Those who made it past the early shit storms more than deserved that extra respect.
But Sydney Carpenter wasn’t a Marine. As far as he could tell, she’d never served in any branch of the U.S. Military. Yet he’d seen her waltz through fire- and gun-fights like they were walks in the park, her hair not even mussed. She embodied the words ‘warrior princess.’ To be blunt, she was the best-damned fighter he’d ever seen, better than any soldier he’d ever met, and that included his old buddies from Fox Company.
Yet for all of her badassed-ness, she had a softer side, too. Sam had seen glimpses of it during their time together in Chicago. Every once in a while, she’d drop the hard-ass façade and let slip a more vulnerable version of herself—a tender smile directed toward an infant, a genuine laugh at a ridiculous joke. Rather than turning him off, those glimpses just made him want to know more. Get to know her better. Get to know what made such a strong, complicated woman tick.
And she wasn’t just a bad-ass. She made him laugh, too, which seemed to be harder to do these days. Sam remembered one time in Chicago, when the three of them had been holed up in an abandoned apartment building for three days. The darkling pack they’d been tracking had gotten wind of their presence, and the three of them had to lay low to avoid unnecessary heat. By the third day, Dex was restless, pacing the floor and muttering to himself. After hours of enforced inactivity, Dex had burst out, “I need this shit like I need a bag of dicks.”
Sydney walked in just as he said, “I need a bag of dicks,” and without missing a beat, replied, “If you’re headed to the store, I need tampons,” and sauntered back out again. Sam, caught off-guard, laughed so hard beer came out his nose.
It was little things like that that made her so precious to him. Not just her scary-good fighting skills, or her whip-crack intelligence, or those moments of unexpected vulnerability. In the midst of death, blood, and endless terror, she could still make him laugh. That meant something.
And yet, it couldn’t mean anything. Because Dex was in love with her, too. Which meant Sam had to pretend he didn’t care about all those small, precious moments. He would not be one of those guys who stole his best friend’s girl. He would never, ever let it come to that. Period.
Not that that was even a possibility. Not after that one night in Chicago, where Dex had been crashed out and Sam had been drunk off his ass. Sydney had asked him what he wanted most in the world. And Sam, like an idiot, told her.
No going back from that. Thank God Dex had been asleep at the time.
Speaking of…
Sam looked at the door with a frown. No way Dex could have slept through that knock. They were both too trained to the rhythm of it to be able to ignore it, even in sleep. Maybe he was in the bathroom? But even then, it shouldn’t take him this long to answer the door. Scowling now, Sam ghosted back into his own room, pulled his Glock from the holster he’d slung across a convenient chair, and stepped quietly back into the night. Then, using the secondary key he’d gotten from the motel owner, he unlocked Dex’s door.
Quiet as the grave in there—and immediately suspect. Sam could tell, without even stepping foot inside, that the bed hadn’t been used, the TV hadn’t been turned on, and the bathroom hadn’t been pissed in. This wasn’t a case of Dex-was-here-and-now-he’s-not; Dex never used this room to begin with.
All of which meant his partner, his best friend, the man he’d spent most of his adult life protecting and fighting alongside, was missing.
Sam slammed the door and raced back to his room to pack up his shit. He might not know where Dex was right now, but he knew damn well where to start looking. That one goal in mind, he grabbed the keys off the nightstand and bolted for the car.
◆◆◆
Dex floated upward out of a deep, restful sleep. He stretched, feeling the pull of muscles that had been recently engaged in vigorous activity, and a dreamy smile bloomed on his face. He could still smell Sydney’s shampoo on the pillow beneath his cheek, still feel the dent in the mattress where she had been…
Where she had been?
Dex bolted upright, heart in his throat. The place beside him was empty. Sydney was gone. When? How had he slept through her leaving? Heat, then cold, flashed through his body as his heart started pounding, dread building—
And then he heard the toilet flush, and a sliver of dim golden light shot across the room as she opened the bathroom door. She hurried out a moment later, stark naked and infinitely beautiful, and flashed him a delighted smile. Sydney winked at him, then hurried over to the air-conditioning unit underneath the window. “We forgot to turn the heat on earlier. It’s freezing in here.”
Dex forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and let out a shaky laugh. “Come back to bed so I can warm you up.”
Sydney fiddled with the knobs on the heater, rubbing her arms and dancing in place as she did. Then she cursed, mimed a kick toward the recalcitrant contraption, and scurried back to the bed, goosebumps visibly rising all up and down her arms and legs. “Screw the heater. I’ll take you up on that.”
Dex held the blankets open in clear invitation. She dove under the covers, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to wrap both his arm and the blankets around her. She shivered as he molded himself to her back. “Ooh, fuck. Toasty warm at last.”
He chuckled and wrapped her up even tighter, spooning his legs with hers. “Better?”
She nodded, nuzzling his bicep with her cheek, and let out a satisfied sigh. She looked too freaking cute, all cuddled up like a kitten against him. Dex held her close, wrapping her up as tight as he dared.
Sydney held that pose for a few moments, then turned her head, a slight frown puckering her brow.
“Your heart’s racing. What’s wrong?”
Busted. Dex tried to sound nonchalant. “Nothing. It’s fine now.”
She squirmed around to face him, gathering the blankets beneath her chin as she studied him with those too-intelligent, ice-blue eyes. “‘Nothing’ doesn’t make your heart beat out of your chest. Spill it.”
He sighed, wrapping his arm around her waist and inserting his thigh between her legs just to lend her a bit more warmth. “No, it was just…I woke up, and you weren’t here.” He scrunched his shoulders in a shrug. “Thought maybe I’d been dreaming again.”
As he feared, her ears perked up at that. “Again?”
Another shoulder scrunch. “I dream about you all the time, Syd. Ever since we met. The dreams…those were the good part. Waking up to find you gone? Not so much.” He smoothed a stray hair off her cheek, trying for a smile. “For a minute, I was half-afraid this whole night wasn’t real. That I’d dreamed the whole thing. That’s all.”
Sydney studied him, eyes serious. She peeled back a part of the blanket that was bunched under her chin, and slowly, slowly, extended one finger. Eyes still focused and intent, she pointed the finger, aimed it at his chest—and jabbed him in the nipple. Hard.
“Ouch!” Dex jerked back with a laugh, cupping a hand over his chest to defend against a second attack. “That hurt.”
Sydney lifted her head, peering around with jerky movements like a meerkat, then ducked back under the covers. “Room didn’t dissolve. Air is still cold. Pretty sure I’m still here.” Her eyes twinkled. “Guess it was
n’t a dream after all.”
He chuckled, kissed her gently, and snugged his arm around her waist. “And here I thought women were supposed to go all gooey-eyed for romantic shit like that.”
Her mischievous smile dimmed, just a little, and her expression went back to serious. “This is me, Dex. I am who I am. I didn’t get a chance to break the mold because they never made one for me. You want women who’ll fall all over you for a whispered sweet nothing, I can recommend a good dozen whores in the bar next door. But if you want to be with me—the real me—then I’m afraid this is as good as it gets.”
“Full of brass and sass,” Dex said with a small smile. “Sam says that about you all the time.”
A pause. “We really should talk about him, you know. He’s part of this, too.”
Dex went still, studying her face, her eyes, wondering what he was looking for. “Sam’s been part of my life since we were both dumb-fuck teenagers,” he said at last. “He’s my partner. Always has my back. I’d even call him my best friend if that didn’t make me sound like a pussy.”
“So…you love him.”
He frowned, muscles tensing for no apparent reason. “Like a brother, sure.”
She gave him a look that said, come on. “No, Dex. You love him.”
“Syd, I…” He shook his head, gripping her waist tightly so his hand wouldn’t shake. “It’s not like that.” At least, I don’t think it is. I mean, the guy is hot, I’ll grant him that. Plenty of chicks fall over him when he walks into a bar. But he’s just a partner to me. My friend. My backup.
And besides, even if it were more than that, Sam would never go for it.
She stared at him, all humor gone. He squirmed internally but kept his mouth shut. Finally, she sighed. “I promised to tell you my secrets one week from now, but I’ll share one early.”
Well, that statement did nothing to alleviate his tension. “Okay…”
No emotion in her eyes. “I kept my distance from the two of you on purpose, Dex. There were—and are—plenty of reasons why I did. I told you I’ve always wanted you, and I meant what I said. But I couldn’t allow myself to get close to you because…” She paused, bit her lip. “Because I want Sam, too.”
Dex held his breath, waiting for the little green monster to rear its ugly head. But just as before, he felt no hint of jealousy at the thought of the two of them together.
Just the opposite, in fact. His cock perked up.
Dex cleared his throat. “Understandable. I mean, Sam’s a…a good-looking guy.”
One eyebrow cocked upward. “So…you don’t mind that I want him, too? That doesn’t bother you?”
He pursed his lips, looking at the blankets bunched under her chin instead of her eyes. “It should, I guess. But, in all honesty…no. It kinda…” He swallowed. “It kinda turns me on.”
He peeked up at her—and saw instant lust flash in her eyes. “Does it, now.” She moved closer, snugging her leg over his hip so that her pussy pressed against his thigh. The feel of her hot, wet cunt sliding over his skin made him choke back a groan. She moved the blankets aside and pressed her tits against his chest. “Does it also turn you on to know I’ve fantasized about the two of you… together? That the thought of your hot, hard bodies moving together on the same bed makes me wet and horny?”
He groaned. “Fuck, Syd…”
She smoothed a hand along his neck and rocked her hips, riding his thigh. “Does it also turn you on that I fantasize about all three of us in bed together? Your cock and his, your hands and mine, giving, receiving, enjoying each other simply because we can?”
Apparently, it did, because his cock was so hard it was leaking pre-cum across his lower belly. Sydney slid her hand down his arm, across his chest, and down his waist, then wrapped her fist around his throbbing shaft. She hummed with approval, squeezing and stroking, while Dex panted and fought for breath.
“I like the idea of both of you inside me,” Sydney whispered, nibbling his jawline as she pushed him backward until he lay flat on his back. “You underneath me. Him behind.” She straddled him, bringing the blanket with her, until they were both tented underneath. She planted one hand in the center of his chest. The other continued stroking him, using her thumb to spread his pre-cum like lube.
“Jesus…” Dex fought back a shudder as he wrapped both hands around her hips.
“He’s not invited,” she said with a purring little chuckle. “But I’d like Sam to be. What about you, Dex? Would you invite him to join us? Would you let him in?”
The obvious double entendre wasn’t lost on him—and it made his cock harden even further. Sydney hummed again, still stroking him, and shifted herself forward. He watched, too thunderstruck to do anything else, as she notched the head of his cock at her pussy entrance and slowly, slowly, lowered herself down. He choked on a gasp as her wet sheath engulfed him, squeezing his shaft with molten heat and velvety softness. She shuddered a little, taking him deep, until her clit hit his pelvic bone.
Dex’s fingers convulsed around her hips, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Sydney purred, leaning forward to brace both hands on his chest, and looked down at him with fiery ice-blue eyes.
“I told you one of my secrets, Dexter Peterson,” she said in a breathy, lust-filled whisper. “Now it’s time to tell me yours. Do you want Sam to be a part of this? Do you want him…inside?” She lifted her weight, pussy walls contracting around him, and settled back down as if in emphasis.
Dex couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The heavenly feel of her body, the shock of her wet heat surrounding him, and the bold, assertive sexuality of her words took his brain completely out of commission. Syd was no shrinking violet, too afraid to admit what she wanted—he’d always known that. But this overt confidence, this brazen acceptance of her darkest desires, set her apart from any other woman he’d ever come across.
And that last part will be literal if I’m not careful, Dex thought suddenly. “Condom,” he gasped, clamping down on her hips to keep her tight against him. “Forgot the condom, Syd.”
“Shh,” she admonished, lifting up and sliding down despite his efforts to hold her still. “Let me ride you.”
He groaned as she did just that.
Sydney kept her movements slow, building up the pressure, taking him higher, as she threw back her head with a beatific smile on her face. Dex cupped her hips, then her breasts, glorying in the sweet bounce of her flesh, the soft slaps of skin on skin. Part of him wanted to flip her over, turn her around, and pound her with animal intensity. But somehow, she held him captive underneath her, using his body for her own pleasure.
And he loved every minute of it.
Dex squeezed her thighs, then slid both hands along those hard, flexing muscles until he finally cupped her ass. Sydney groaned, leaning forward to brace both hands on the mattress on either side of his head. She let him help lift her up, rocking forward and back in time with his squeezes, until they were both panting from the effort. Dex was so close, so fucking close, but he had to hold back, had to hang on…
Sydney arched her back, then suddenly leaned over him, one hand sliding under a nearby pillow. He thought she was lost in it, thought she was about to explode all around him, and he braced himself for impact. Syd cried out, muscles convulsing—
And suddenly sat straight up, still impaled on his cock, but now twisted around at the waist to face the door. She had a gun in her hand—and she was pointing it at someone who was just poking his head in the doorway.
“Freeze, or I shoot.” Her voice was so hard it could have cracked diamonds. “I’d fire a warning shot, but I don’t miss.”
A shadow stood in the doorway, upper body thrust just far enough into the room that a strip of light from the open bathroom highlighted one side of a face.
Dex peeked around Sydney’s torso—and did a double-take. “Sam?”
Chapter 7
This was bad. Really, really bad. Sam felt like a kid who’d just walked in on his pa
rents wrapping Christmas presents. A kid who’d seen what his presents would have been—if he’d been a good boy, that is.
And oh, dear lord, what a present that would be…
Sam held up both hands, edging into the room while trying not to pay attention to the scene on the bed—though it was impossible not to. Sydney was clearly sitting on top of Dex, though a heap of blankets hid their lower bodies. Dex lay flat on his back, hands clenched around Sydney’s bare waist, staring at Sam with plate-sized eyes. And Sydney was clearly straddling him, though right now she was twisted around so that Sam could clearly see her gloriously bared breasts—
Along with the Desert Eagle pointed straight at his head.
“What the fuck, Sam?” Dex looked like a thundercloud had settled on his forehead. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, forcing himself to concentrate on the gun instead of the sight of the two of them together. “I knocked on your door, but you didn’t answer. When I found you gone, I thought maybe we’d been made, and thought someone had kidnapped you. I came back to talk to Syd, to find out if she’d heard anything. I didn’t expect…” He choked, had to clear his throat. “I didn’t think I would find you…both…”
“Close the door,” Sydney told him. The gun’s muzzle never wavered.
“No, I’ll go,” Sam said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
“Come in and close the damn door, Sam Spencer. You can’t leave.”
Sam and Dex both shot her incredulous expressions. “He can’t?” Dex said at the same time Sam barked, “I can’t?”
Sydney, still pointing the gun at him, calmly lifted herself off of Dex—oh, fuck, he wished he could see through that damn pile of blankets—and slid off the end of the bed. Stark naked, beautiful as all get-out, she sauntered over to a puddle of white fabric in the middle of the floor. With a last searching look toward Sam, she finally lowered the gun, set it on a chest of drawers, and picked up the robe. She threw it around her shoulders, flipped the tie closed with a casual twist of her wrists, and stood facing him with arms crossed beneath her breasts.
The Darkling Hunters_Fox Company Alpha Page 8