Dirty Tactics (Special Weapons & Tactics Book 1)

by Peyton Banks

  He was on call for twenty-fours a day with rare occasions off. He was always put in dangerous situations that most spouses had a hard time dealing with. Many women couldn’t stomach the thought that one night they may get a call that their loved one might not return to them.

  He’d come home from the Navy knowing that he wanted to continue his duty of protection of the public. Signing up for the Columbia Police Department was second nature. It only made sense for him to apply for SWAT once he’d joined the force and made his way up the ranks to commanding his own team.

  Finding love just wasn’t in the cards for him.

  His job was to put his life on the line for civilians and his brothers and sisters in blue.

  True SWAT put themselves in danger without a second thought, and he’d bled for his men.

  He couldn’t offer Sarena much. He wouldn’t make her any promises. Maybe after they’d fucked a few times, he’d get her out of his system.

  Who am I kidding?

  One didn’t get a woman like Sarena Rucker out of their system. A woman like her soaked into your pores and became a part of you. She was the kind of woman who could bring him to his knees.

  And that scared him shitless.

  He stared down at his cell phone as he sat back in his recliner in his living room. He’d gotten her cell phone number during the background check and had held on to it.

  He sent her a quick text. Dinner at my place tonight?

  Who is this? Her reply was almost immediate.

  Mac.

  His phone rang with her name flashing across the screen. He bit back a chuckle and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “How’d you get my number?” Her husky tone came through the line.

  His cock grew stiff at the sound of her voice. Last night, when he’d approached her on her porch, his feet had moved on autopilot. He hadn’t even known what he was doing until he had reached her porch.

  Her soft caramel skin made his fingers itch to touch her. She’d been relaxed and well into a few cups. Had she not been slightly tipsy, he would have had her then. But no, he wanted to ensure she remembered their first, second, eighth time together.

  “I have my ways.” He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips at her sass. He would love to draw out her feisty nature in the bedroom. Just imagining her flirting with him in nothing but her heels, on her knees in front of him, got him rock hard.

  “So you are asking me out on a date?” she asked.

  “I don’t date,” he automatically replied. He wasn’t going to lie to her. He didn’t date around. The women he had been involved with in the past had known what they were getting into with him. He knew that Sarena was different but he could no longer stay away from her.

  “So just dinner?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Sarena. I want you,” he stated. He wouldn’t sugarcoat anything with her. He heard the slight catch of her breath and wanted to ensure that if he was going to take this step that it would be on his terms.

  A small shred of doubt entered his mind. Would she turn him down? Would she prefer the likes of Brodie to him? The memory of her throwing his teammate a smile came to mind. She was probably looking for romance, flowers, and a happy ever after—the shit he didn’t do.

  He scowled knowing that those things weren’t him. There was one thing he knew he could promise her—unbridled passion, screaming orgasms, and sexual satisfaction.

  “What time do you want me there?”

  Sarena’s heart pounded away as she finished putting the last details on her makeup. She didn’t want to put on too much and wanted to keep it light and natural. Tonight, Marcas had invited her over for dinner but she was sure there would be much more on the table than just food.

  She glanced down at her watch. Fifteen minutes until she needed to be at his home. She blew herself a kiss, hit the light switch, and left her bathroom. Due to his confession on her porch, she knew he loved her in her heels so she’d ensure she wore a pair tonight.

  She slid her feet into her shoes and moved to stand in front of her floor-length mirror. She kept her outfit simple since she was just going to his home and released a snort. If he had his way, her clothes wouldn’t be on for long.

  She didn’t have a problem with that.

  No, not at all.

  The sound of the doorbell filled the air.

  “Who could that be?” she muttered and made her way down the stairs. She wasn’t expecting anyone and she knew that her best friend, Ronnie, had picked up an extra shift tonight. “Coming,” she called.

  She walked over to the front door and peeked through the peephole.

  Marcas.

  “Marcas,” she breathed as she opened the door.

  He stood there in a t-shirt that molded to his chest, displaying his well-defined muscles. His jeans hung low on his waist, and he leaned against her doorframe. His intense gaze made her breath catch in her throat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Her nipples tingled while he perused every inch of her body, stopping at her heels. Her leopard-print heels were one of her favorites. His eyes darkened and met hers again.

  He approved of her shoe choice.

  “Well, I didn’t want you to have to walk over to my place alone for our non-date dinner,” he murmured.

  “Our non-date dinner?” She raised her eyebrows. She smirked and crossed her arms in front of her chest, propping her door open with her hip. He could call it want he wanted, but it was a damn date. “Because you don’t date.”

  “Nope, but I can feed my neighbor, though.” The corner of his lips curved up in a faint smile.

  “Because that’s just what good neighbors do,” she whispered and met his heated gaze.

  His attention dropped down to the swell of her breasts that were on display from the low-cut shirt. Any place that his gaze touched had her body heating up. She bit her lip and stared at him. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it through the damn dinner. Her fingers itched to tear his clothes off so she could have her wicked way with his god-like body.

  She dropped her own attention down to the bulge in his jeans and bit back a groan. “Well, let me grab my keys, neighbor.”

  She turned and held the door open for him. He stepped across the threshold, and she ran over to the couch and grabbed her phone and purse. She spotted her keys on the table by her front door.

  “I hope you’re bringing your appetite,” he announced as she made her way back to him.

  Her gaze flew to his eyes, and his eyes darkened again. Had she mistook what he was speaking about?

  Appetite?

  For him?

  Hell yeah, she was bringing it.

  “For dinner? I’m starving.” She chuckled.

  They walked out the front door. She turned and quickly locked up then turned again, jumping back against the door.

  Marcas was right behind her, trapping her between his hard body and the door. His finger tipped her chin up so she could look into his eyes.

  “I wasn’t talking food, but I do hope you brought your appetite for that, too,” he said.

  His finger brushed against her bottom lip, and her knees grew weak.

  It didn’t make any sense how her body was responding to his with just the slightest touch. She’d never had this instant, go-up-in-flames reaction to anyone before.

  He didn’t date but he wanted her.

  Well, she wanted him.

  She was a grown woman and could handle herself. She’d just have to ensure her heart was locked away in a steel cage because this man in front of her could hurt her.

  Destroy her.

  She pushed off the door, narrowing her eyes on him as she pressed herself to him. With his tallness and her shortness, they fit together perfectly. She was soft everywhere he was hard.

  They were perfect against each other.

  A growl escaped his lips, and he met her gaze. Her mind was made up, and she’d be willing to take
the risk.

  Two could play this game.

  “Lead the way, Marcas,” she breathed.

  Chapter 6

  Mac looked across the table and figured he’d gone too far. It had been a while since he’d just cooked for a woman. Hell, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d prepared a meal for a female who wasn’t his mother. Latrice MacArthur was a lady who’d made sure her boys knew how to cook. He and his brothers, Stone and Lincoln, loved to get busy in the kitchen. All three of the MacArthur boys had gone into the Navy, but Latrice ensured that once out of the service they would be able to survive on more than fast food.

  If asked, Latrice told anyone who would listen that she wanted to make sure her boys were a catch for a woman. Mac scowled thinking of his mother’s routine speech that she gave about wanting daughter-in-laws since she wasn’t blessed to have a daughter.

  “This was just amazing,” Sarena gushed and waved her hand over the table.

  He wanted to provide her a solid meal and thought that grilled salmon and mashed potatoes with a small salad would be sufficient. Sarena was not a woman who was ashamed of eating. He was pleased with the way she’d dived into dinner with such gusto.

  “Thanks. It really didn’t take that long,” he murmured, wiping his mouth off with his napkin.

  “I’m ashamed to say that I’m not the world’s best cook. I can get by with the basics but nothing this extravagant.”

  Her bright smile met his eyes as he gazed across the table at her. Her dimples winked at him, and he could feel the stirring between his legs. She laughed softly, and his cock grew stiff.

  Their conversation had been steady for the entire dinner. He was surprised at how much he had opened up to her.

  “So was it just you growing up?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, knowing the answer. The private company he used to obtain background checks was always reliable. He would just pretend as if he didn’t have a few pages’ worth of information on her already.

  “No, I have an older brother.” She shook her head.

  He paused. The background check hadn’t revealed any siblings. Curiosity burned in his gut. Alarms went off in the back of his mind, and he sat forward.

  “Really?” He couldn’t admit to her that he had run a background check on her. He wanted her to volunteer information. So far, most of her what she had told him lined up with the background check. She was the assistant nurse manager of the emergency department. She was raised by her parents. Her father, Walter Rucker, was a high school science teacher, and her mother, Carol Rucker, was the high school secretary.

  No mention of a brother.

  “Harden is in the Navy. He’s a SEAL. He actually reminds me of you.” She shook her head again, her smile faltering. “It’s been a few months since I’ve spoken to him.”

  Mac’s mind raced. If her brother was older than her, then he was probably around Mac’s age. If he was still in the Navy, then that would explain why he hadn’t been on the check. Harden Rucker didn’t want to be found. Anywhere. Not even to appear under anything linked to family.

  “What team is he on?” he asked.

  “Team three,” she murmured.

  Mac knew by the look in her eyes that he needed to change the subject. He recognized that look. It was the same one that came over his mother’s face whenever either him or his siblings deployed.

  “I’m sure wherever he is, he’s safe.”

  A small smile returned to her lips, and she glanced back over at him.

  “I heard you were a SEAL, too.” She cocked her head to the side. “I would ask if you know him, but then again, this world is much bigger than we think it is.”

  “I think Janet has been talking too much,” he muttered, pushing back from the table. He didn’t want to go down memory lane of his days in the service right now. He was a proud SEAL but was scarred too badly to open up that far on their first date—

  Non-date dinner.

  He wasn’t sure how his nosey neighbor knew so much about him. Maybe he should have just asked Janet about Sarena or any of the other neighbors to find out information since she seemed to have a wealth of knowledge.

  “Here, let me help.” Sarena scrambled from her chair and gathered some of their dishes then headed into the kitchen.

  “You are a guest in my home, I’ll clear the table,” he argued, following her.

  “Nonsense.” She laughed and placed the dishes on the counter and turned to him.

  He lowered his into the sink then moved to stand in front of her. He settled his hands on the counter on each side of her hips, trapping her with his body.

  “It’s the least I can do,” she said. “You cooked, I can clean.”

  He could see the feistiness come forth on her face, and she smiled up at him.

  “You are a guest, Sarena. No cleaning up here,” he murmured, shaking his head.

  “But we are just two neighbors dining together, so I can help clean. This is not a date, remember?” She cocked an eyebrow at him and used her finger to tap him on the chest.

  There it was again.

  Her feistiness.

  She was testing him.

  He shot his hand out and grabbed her finger.

  “No cleaning up,” he said softly. He narrowed his eyes on her, trying to harden his facial features. “That’s an order.”

  “I’m not one of your men that you can just order around.” She poked him in the chest with her finger again.

  He tightened his grip on her hand and let loose a low growl. Her hazel eyes darkened as she tipped her head back farther so she could look him in the eyes.

  He closed the gap between them and pushed the proof of his arousal against her stomach. A gasp escaped her lips. She needed to know what she did to him. His cock begged for release from his jeans.

  “You’re right. I can’t give them certain orders.” He leaned down toward her.

  She strained toward him, and he his crushed his mouth to hers. Her fingers gripped his shirt, and he pressed closer to her. Their lips molded together. He angled his head, and her lips parted, allowing his tongue to sweep into her mouth. He could taste the light wine still on her tongue.

  His tongue plundered her mouth, and a moan released from her. Her soft lips moving across his lips had his cock straining against his jeans. He pulled back from her. She protested as he cupped her face in his large hands. He gently rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, brushing her deep dimples. She gave him a small smile. He loved the caramel complexion of her skin. It was a direct contrast to the tan color of his. Everything about Sarena just made him want to go caveman on her.

  Dragging her off to his bedroom and locking her away for him to have his way with her was quickly becoming his favorite fantasy.

  Her tied up on his bed, naked, legs spread wide, waiting for him was an image that had a growl escaping his lips.

  Soon.

  “How about I give you an order I know you will follow,” he murmured, laying another kiss on her swollen lips.

  “What is that?” Her dazed eyes met his.

  He smiled slightly and moved his thumb to her bottom lip. He couldn’t stay away from her plump lips. They were perfect for kissing and wrapping themselves around his cock.

  “Take your clothes off.”

  Sarena didn’t move her gaze off Marcas as she reached for the bottom of her shirt. His order was said with such a commanding tone, that had she been one of his men, she would have scrambled to do what he ordered.

  He was right.

  This was an order he wouldn’t be giving to his men.

  This was just for her.

  She pulled her shirt over her head. The chilled air met her skin, and her nipples drew up into painful beads, pushing against her bra. A quick intake of breath from Marcas, and her core clenched.

  His eyes darkened as he moved his gaze down to take in her full breasts.

  “All of them.”

  She tried to control her breathing and bit her lip. She slid her ha
nds down to her jeans, unbuttoned them, and kicked off her heels, losing four inches of height. She felt so small and dainty near Marcas. He was a large man, and by the size of his bulge in his jeans, he was large everywhere. She shimmied out of her jeans, leaving herself in just her bra and panties.

  “Are you taking anything off?” she asked, breathless. She took in his muscular frame, and her heart raced.

  He shook his head.

  “Off. All of it.” He nodded to her chest; his gaze hadn’t left her breasts.

  She smiled, reaching behind and unsnapping the clasps of her lace bra. She dropped it to the floor before hooking her fingers underneath the waist of her panties. She was so thankful to Ronnie for talking her into getting her Brazilian earlier that week.

  She kicked her panties off and stood before him with her hands on her hips, waiting on his approval. Her breasts ached to feel his hands on them as they swayed in the air.

  “Good girl.”

  He moved as quick as lightning and scooped her up in his arms, and she gasped. He turned and sat her on the large marble island. Her ass met the coolness of the marble counter, and she shivered.

  “Marcas,” she whimpered. He spread her legs and stood between them. “You have too many clothes on.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he growled, dipping his head into the crook of her neck.

  He nipped her skin with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, and she threw her head back.

  She released a hiss, and he cupped her sensitive breasts in his hands and brought his lips to them. She moaned while he sucked one teat deep into his open, hot mouth. She buried her fingers in his short hair and held his head to her chest. He nuzzled and sucked on her soft mound then gave the other one attention.

  “These breasts of yours are divine,” he whispered against her nipple. His tongue blazed a hot trail along her skin as he moved toward her jawline.

  She threw her fingers through his hair, anchoring his face in front of hers. Their lips merged together in a searing kiss. His large hands gripped her ass and pulled her toward the edge of the island. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close to her. She slid her hands down to the edge of his shirt, but Marcas pulled back.