Battlefield (The Covenant Book 2)

by Gwendolyn Casey

  We walked to the ladies’ room and went into our separate stalls and I tried to breathe as I sat down, taking the few moments I could to settle my nerves.

  Tristen was primping in the mirror as I went to wash my hands.

  “So, what is the deal with you and Jordan?” Tristen asked.

  I groaned inwardly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean sometimes he looks at you like he owns you.” I found her tone to be more curious than jealous, which was a relief.

  I shrugged. “I always thought he was jealous of Rafe. Maybe he wants me simply because Rafe does.”

  “I don’t think that is it,” she said, turning to give me a serious look.

  “Well, if you figure it out, let me know. I would love for him to stop giving me those creepy looks,” I said.

  We walked out of the bathroom, and Tristen turned right. “I’m heading outside for a cig.”

  “Okay,” I said. I turned left but was immediately pushed back down the hall. Jordan had me in his arms and he was pushing me out the back entrance of the restaurant.

  “What are you doing?” I tried to fight him, but he dragged me down the alley until we were behind a dumpster.

  He shoved me back into the wall. “What are you doing?” he growled. “Are you fucking him?”

  I fought to hide my smile. “That is none of your business,” I said, raising my chin.

  “Like hell it isn’t.” He gripped my hair in one hand and my throat in the other. His fingers squeezed slightly, and I gasped at the pressure.

  “You are mine, Cece. Every inch of you belongs to me. You have been mine since I breached that pussy and filled you with my cum.” His brown eyes blazed down at mine, filled with anger and lust. I felt wetness spread at my center at that look.

  I pushed at him. “You gave me up. You have no right to me.”

  Suddenly I was being spun around and pushed against the wall.

  “Damn it, Cece. They taught me to withstand every type of torture except the one you are putting me through,” Jordan growled in my ear and brought his hand to my throat again.

  “What?” I asked, but he didn't answer, too busy bunching my dress around my waist. I thought I heard a zipper and then I felt Jordan's massive length pushing between my legs.

  I immediately tilted my hips and gripped the wall in front of me. Jordan roughly pulled my thong to the side. He began to push inside me, disregarding any foreplay. I was wet enough to allow entry, but I gasped as he forced himself deep.

  Despite the twinge, my body quivered at Jordan's presence, so hard and deep, and my pussy gripped him fiercely. It felt so good that my head lulled back, and I moaned like an addict getting a hit of heroin after months of recovery.

  Jordan cut off my moan with a roughened hand over my mouth. “Quiet,” he growled into my ear. “You are going to take every inch of this cock like the little slut you are.” He was obviously angry with me, but I didn't care. Being together this way was exactly what I needed right now. It didn't matter that he was crushing me against the wall and using me roughly. This was Jordan. He was the only man who could ever do this to me, and I would welcome it.

  He pushed my dress down in front, so he could palm my breast, pinching and pulling my nipple.

  I cried out into his hand and pushed my hips back at him, wanting it deeper and harder.

  “Oh, fuck. You can deny it all you want, but this cunt knows who she belongs to. She fucking weeps for me.”

  I whimpered as he really started to pound my pussy, finally giving me what I needed after all these weeks. My insides lit up with the pleasure, making my legs shake and my eyes shut tight. Just the sounds of his grunts in my ear would have me coming in no time.

  He gripped my hair again. “Are you still on the pill?” he asked.

  But before I could answer, he said, “Fuck it. I don’t care if you are or not. I’m still coming deep inside you.”

  I tightened my pussy around him, loving his filthy words.

  “Cece.” He slowed his thrusts and cupped my breast again, molding it in his big hand. “Do you want that? Do you want me to knock you up?”

  I spoke an “hmm, hmm” without hesitation.

  “Then grip that wall tight. I’m going to push my cum deep and it’s your job to hold it inside you.”

  I gripped the wall, and Jordan brought both his hands down to grip my hips as he went to town on my pussy. His thrusts were deep and sure, his hands pulling me onto him like a savage. The slap of our bodies echoed through the dark alley and spurred us on, making our tryst even more passionate. Soon I was coming around his cock and Jordan put a hand over my mouth again. I bit down on the hand as the bliss consumed me.

  Jordan growled but didn’t stop fucking me. He rode me roughly as the pleasure peaked and kept peaking with every hard thrust.

  “Fuck. You have no idea how much I want to cut Rafe’s throat for touching you.” He grunted as he brought his mouth to my ear again. “But it will help to know that my cum is inside you. I want it deep, but I also hope it drips out of you, coating your thighs.”

  He jostled me roughly, pulling me on and off his cock. His rough possession and his words had me ready to explode again.

  “I fucking love you, Cece.”

  I cried out as another orgasm suddenly ripped through my insides.

  He followed, gripping my shoulder and pulling me back against him to keep my pussy flush on his cock. He was so deep that I almost started crying from the overwhelming joy of having him there. After a few moments, Jordan wrapped his arms around me but stayed inside me. His mouth was at my ear, simply breathing. In that moment, I felt so complete and relaxed, like everything was going to be okay. I was also exhausted.

  I shivered, making my insides squeeze around him.

  “Fuck,” he said, and then I felt him begin to pull away. I whimpered as he left my body, literally leaving a hole inside me. He backed away a little and my thong went back in to place, my dress falling around my legs. I pulled the bodice up to cover my breasts again while Jordan put himself away.

  We simply stared at each other. I was too scared to move. He could push me away again, and I was dreading that feeling to come.

  But then he stepped close and took me in his arms. The tears began to fall before my face could cuddle into his chest.

  “Cece,” he said.

  I looked up at him, and I could see the pain finally. It was there in his eyes and lips, in the color of his skin. I could see now that it was there all along. I just wasn’t close enough to see it.

  I went up on my toes to bring our mouths together, needing the reassurance of his kiss. His lips touched mine.

  “Jordan,” a voice said.

  I froze, but Jordan had enough sense to step away from me.

  Benny came around the dumpster and looked at both of us. I could tell Jordan was about to lie. But at that very moment, my stomach tilted, and I felt the bile come up my throat. I quickly turned and threw up onto the pavement.

  “Get Rafe. She's sick,” Jordan said.

  I heard the door close as I continued to heave, and Jordan held my shoulders. Then Rafe was there, pushing Jordan away. I could hear the growl as Jordan stepped back but I hoped no else did.

  “Darling, what's wrong?” Rafe asked.

  I dry heaved again, but nothing came out. I finally breathed in a few times. “I don't know. Maybe it was something I ate.” I kept my face away from his. “Can we go home?” I asked softly.

  “Of course,” Rafe said.

  Before I could say anything, Rafe had me in his arms and carried me back into the restaurant. I looked back at Jordan to see anger but also desperation.

  When we sat in the limo, Rafe stayed close to my side while Jordan sat across from us.

  “This is too bad. I was hoping to take you dancing,” Rafe said.

  Jordan's expression remained bored, but I saw his knuckles turn white as his hand formed a fist. I did feel guilty for what I was putting Jordan through by d
ating Rafe. At first, I thought it was justice, but I could see the toll this was taking on him.

  And yet, his jealousy drove him to finally touch me again. He said that he loved me, for the first time, too. It felt so good to hear him say it. Almost as good as him fucking me.

  Maybe it was time to tell Jordan the truth. Maybe he wouldn't feel so tortured if he knew the reason I came here. After all, he said he wanted me to knock me up. How would he feel if he knew I was already knocked up?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cece

  Clayton, SD

  Two Months Earlier

  Knock. Knock.

  The sound jolted me awake so that I sat up quickly. I squinted at the morning light coming through the windows in my living room. I must have fallen asleep on the couch again.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Just a sec,” I said and coughed on the air that I sucked into my dry throat. I slowly dragged myself out of my nest of blankets and used tissues, kicking a pizza box out of my way to the front door.

  I opened the door to find Izzy on the other side. The first thing I noticed was how much bigger her stomach was compared to the last time I saw her. It officially looked like a basketball stuffed under her shirt.

  She gave me a sad but sympathetic smile. “I brought ice cream,” she said, like it was the password to get in. I tilted my head to the side to invite her in. She went straight to the kitchen while I went back to the couch. The TV was still on from last night.

  It had been a week since I woke up and found him gone with a note on the counter. I can’t do this. I'm sorry.

  Ever since then, I stopped doing everything that wasn't necessary. I still showered and went to work, but things like cleaning and turning off the TV stopped being important.

  The note had seemed so absurd that I immediately went to the club and showed the note to Rem. I had been certain that he had been kidnapped or something and this note was supposed to make me think he was safe. But Rem confirmed that he had left town on his own, that he had spoken to Jordan before he left. Rem started telling me something about money left in my account, but I stormed out of the club, still not convinced.

  I had called his cell phone a couple dozen times until it told me the mailbox was full. After that it was disconnected completely. That had been the denial phase. I learned the five stages of death on Dr. Phil one day when I was too lazy to change the channel. It was strange to learn that you could mourn a relationship the same way you do a person. The anger came swiftly after that, filling my mind with the fury of betrayal and my own stupidity. Somewhere along the way, I realized that telling Jordan I loved him probably played a role in him leaving. That’s what had me bypassing the bargaining stage and taking two doses of depression, which I was still lingering in.

  Izzy came back with two sundaes, and she added extra whipped cream to mine.

  “Thanks,” I croaked. She pushed the garbage off the other end of the couch and lowered herself slowly.

  Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Does the club know where he went?”

  “Rem says no, and I believe him. But I can tell he is worried about him,” she said.

  He was so desperate to get away that he even left the Aces. “Tell Rem I'm sorry. It's my fault he left.”

  “No, it's not,” she insisted.

  “I told him I loved him. Then he leaves a few days later in the middle of the night. How is it not my fault?”

  “Cece, Jordan may be an asshole, but he is not a pussy. He wouldn't leave everything behind to avoid commitment.”

  “But his note.”

  “I don't care what his note says. I don't believe it. And I know his brothers don't either.” She shook her head. “I don't know what his plan is, but I think Jordan left us all for a reason. Remember how I told you that when the Aces banished me, Jordan was the only one who seemed to understand. He said that he knew what it was like to be put in my position. I didn't ask what he meant at the time, but I assumed that his time in the army may have been more complicated than other soldiers.”

  I absorbed that information, not knowing what to do with it. I was just starting to move into the acceptance part of the break-up. But what Izzy told me made me feel confused, and I didn't like that. I quickly decided to dismiss her theory. If he was in trouble he would have told me, or at least his brothers.

  I felt my stomach twinge a little, so I set the bowl down.

  “What's wrong?” Izzy asked.

  “My stomach hasn't felt the best lately.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes, but I feel nauseous sometimes, too. I'm sure it's all the crap I've been eating.” I gestured to all the takeout boxes.

  “Did you have your period?”

  I had to think for a moment. “Yes, I think.”

  Izzy raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

  “Well, it didn't last for very long.” I looked over at her, and her mouth twitched like she was trying to hold back a smile. But her eyes were bright with excitement.

  “I'm not pregnant,” I said. “It is just the stress.”

  “You should probably take a test to be sure. Do you want me to get you one now?” she asked, making to get up.

  “No, I’m working later so I can take one then,” I said to calm her down.

  Izzy left a little while later, telling me to call her if I needed anything. She also asked if I wanted a phone call when she went into labor.

  “Of course,” I said, knowing it would make her happy. I figured that she had a couple more months and by then it might not hurt as much to see her and Rem living the dream of love and family.

  After she left, I stood in the shower, thinking about the possibility of being pregnant. I felt tears rush into my eyes.

  God couldn't be that cruel, I hoped.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jordan

  Las Vegas, NV

  The Present

  I never hated Rafe as much as I did in this moment.

  It was torture to watch him hold Cece’s hand and try to comfort her as we made our way back to the club. She smiled at him sweetly, her eyes tired but light, like she trusted him to take care of her.

  That is my job, my green-eyed monster sneered. Something about this evening had him roaming just under the surface of my skin, waiting for the opportunity to claim Cece in the most primitive way possible. That scene in the alleyway had been me proving my absolute dominance over her, proving my ownership of her body and soul. She needed to understand that it was my divine right to fuck her like a rutting beast. Whether it was ordained by God or the devil, made no difference. She was mine, and no other man would have her.

  I think I got my point my across. Cece felt my possession so deeply it made her physically sick, which made me feel like an asshole.

  I had hoped marking my territory would make me feel better, help me get a grip on the monster. But it was worse now than before. I may have laid claim to her body, but it was Rafe who carried her out of the restaurant and was holding her hand right now. He got to play the hero while I was left as the villain.

  I had to talk to her and apologize. I had been rough with her. Hell. I practically forced myself inside her. And all that talk about getting her pregnant, I regret the most. What I said was true, but getting her pregnant was a promise of a future. I couldn’t make those promises, not yet.

  When we got back to the building, I snuck upstairs and put a note on her bed to meet me while she was saying goodbye to Rafe.

  An hour later, she met me in the alleyway next to the club. She was wearing yoga pants, an oversized shirt and flipflops. Her face was devoid of all the make-up and her hair was on top of her head in a messy bun. This was the first I’d seen of the old Cece since she had come to Vegas. It reminded me of that short month of domestic bliss we had together, before I fucked everything up.

  We stood behind the building in relative darkness.

  “What is it?” she asked, not meeting my eyes.

  “I wa
nted to say I was sorry for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have been so rough,” I said.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at me. “Do you regret being rough or touching me to begin with?”

  The look in her eyes told me this was not an idle question. Her gaze was vulnerable and sad. If I told her that I regretted it, it would probably hurt her enough to send her away from Vegas for good. I needed her to leave, but I couldn’t summon the strength. Instead, I approached her slowly and cupped her face in my both my hands, letting my thumbs brush over her lips.

  “Cece, have I ever regretted touching you?” I asked.

  Her lip trembled, and tears came to her eyes. “No,” she whispered.

  I bent to kiss her, but suddenly, there was a noise down the alley.

  “Fuck,” I said as I dropped my hands from Cece and turned to the figure approaching us.

  “This is an interesting development,” Parker said.

  “It’s not safe to meet here,” I insisted.

  “Relax, I’ve covered our bases.” He glanced at Cece. “This couldn’t wait.”

  I felt Cece press herself to my back, looking for my protection. “What is going on?” she asked.

  I took a breath, feeling frustrated and relieved at the same time. “Cece, meet Parker, a member of the CIA and the head of this operation.”

  She frowned. “Operation?”

  “Yes, from the time Jordan left Clayton, he has been working for us, trying to capture an international criminal,” Parker said with the easy smile he reserved for civilians.

  She stood next to me and looked up at me. “Rafe?” she said, looking like Parker could not be serious.

  Parker shook his head. “I’ll let Jordan explain the details since we don’t have a lot of time. What I wanted to talk about was how we can use your help.”

  I glared at him. He was supposed to help me get her out, not bring her further in. “No fucking way,” I said.

  “We’ve seen her with Rafe. He likes her,” Parker said.

  Rafe more than liked her, but I wasn’t about to tell Parker that. “No way. She is not trained for this sort of thing,” I said.