Under Fire

by Scarlett Cole

  With a sigh, she stood again. Bed was the best place to be, even if she could only rest instead of sleep. She padded back down the hallway and paused in front of Six’s room. If she joined him, it wouldn’t be that much worse than the night he’d slipped off her bra and slept on her floor. And being closer to him would definitely make her feel safer.

  Mind made up, she crept over to his bed and peeled back the comforter and sheets. They rustled loudly, but Six didn’t move. She sat down gently and lifted her legs slowly onto the mattress before sliding them under the covers.

  Just as she was lowering her head to the pillow, Six turned suddenly and reached for her. His arms snaked around her and pulled her back to his chest. His body was hot, overwhelming, and unmoving. The soft snore over her shoulder and the warm breath ticking her neck, told her that he was asleep, that this was no deliberate move, but she relished it all the same.

  She could feel every part of him pressed up against her as his hand drifted up to hold her breast. Everything inside her tightened. But she finally felt safe.

  And no matter how good it felt to be next to him, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Six woke with a start. Death and loss were impossible to outrun in sleep, especially when dreams took him to that dark place he rarely revisited during his waking hours. Brock’s death and his own gunshot wound had morphed into one impossibly connected and grotesque event that had left him lying and bleeding next to Brock’s broken body.

  In that place between being awake and asleep, he reached for the one thing that chased away the lingering chill of his nightmare. A woman. Nothing felt better than waking up slowly with a sweet woman in your arms, especially when your dreams had taken you to a hellish place. There was something about the fragility of a woman that helped him escape the dreams’ clutches. Perhaps it was the comfort of another human being to be vulnerable with, the sense of connection that helped ground him back in reality. Lying on his back, he ran his hand down the curve of the woman tucked against his side and focused on her, on her skin. God, he loved the flare of a hip, just running his fingers softly along it and back. Sometimes touching a woman’s skin was an innocuous move, like when watching a movie on a lazy Sunday afternoon, and others it was an invitation to the best kind of sex.

  She turned in his arms and buried herself into his shoulder, the move making him smile. Her arm slid around his waist, her hand pressed flat against his skin, holding him close. While deployed, you could jerk off to relieve the sexual urges and tension, but nothing could re-create the intimacy in moments like this. The simple quietness, the honesty of it, even if it was just for one night.

  Six rolled onto his side and forced his eyes open. Louisa. The minx had snuck into his bed, and he couldn’t figure out how she’d pulled it off without waking him. Given she was obviously there by her own choice, he pulled her closer, savoring the way her breasts pushed up against his chest, and slid his hand down her back, reaching for her skin underneath the nightshirt she’d slept in. Their legs tangled under the covers. The subtle smell of fresh lavender tickled his nose. He kissed her temple and felt himself harden at the direction of his thoughts.

  Gently, he moved his lips down the side of her face because he wasn’t ready to fully wake up or for the moment of sleepy tenderness to be over. The tips of her fingers ran along his spine, and it made him shiver in the best kind of way. She tucked her hand in the back of his briefs and gripped his ass, pulling him closer to her. His cock, delighted by the game they were playing, jumped in readiness. But this wasn’t about chasing release. It was about something utterly irreplaceable.

  Six slid his thigh between hers, and she moved her knee over his thigh. He ran his hand along her hip, around the curve of her ass, and along her thigh before making the return journey, this time skirting under her nightshirt. God, she had the smoothest skin.

  Unable to resist, he kissed down her temple and along her jaw until he reached her lips. She gasped when he brushed them with his, then moaned when he pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm, and soft like the rest of her, and her hips began to move, a slow and steady rocking against his leg. Not needy. Not yet, at least. But a definite seeking of pressure he was more than ready to provide.

  He ran his tongue along her lips, willing them to open, to let him inside so that he could savor her. As she did, she moaned, and when her tongue met his, he felt as though he’d died and gone to heaven. The movement of her hips sped up against him, and she gasped. Her fingers dug into him, holding him where she wanted him. It was the sexiest thing when a woman took instead of waiting to receive, although he was more than willing to accommodate both. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, pulling her higher up her chest so she could ride his cock. He didn’t give a shit that underwear separated them. She obviously wanted pressure against her clit, and his dick wanted it too.

  It felt so good, so right, and he groaned as she moved against him, loudly enough to rouse Louisa from her own sleepy sexual haze.

  In a split second, so many thoughts collided. She looked so vulnerable, and delicious, and flushed and everything else he dreamed about, and so close to orgasm he needed to see it. Wanted it more than his next breath, the desire even greater than finding his own release. She was a millisecond from climbing off him in embarrassment, and it was all happening in slow motion. He could feel the moment her hands started to lift from his chest and the pressure between his cock and her clit started to ease.

  “Don’t go,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t leave me.” Jesus Christ. He shouldn’t beg. He should tell her to go. To keep some distance. But instead he put his hands on either side of her face, using his fingers to move her bangs to one side so he could see her. “Finish this,” he said, pulling her lips down to his before she had a chance to argue, to disappear back inside her own head. Six slipped his fingers into her hair, gently bunching it in his hands. It was thick and soft.

  Louisa pulled her lips from his. They were swollen and deep pink from their kisses, and he wanted them on him, around him, just about everywhere. He was sure she was going to pull away from him, but then she sighed, pressed her lips back against his, and lowered her body to his until the two of them lined up perfectly. She began to rock against him with the same kind of urgency he was feeling. She felt hot and damp through her underwear, and he wanted to remove whatever she was wearing on top. He grabbed the hem and pulled it up over her back, and Louisa lifted as he tugged it over her head. When she returned to lying on him again, he groaned. Skin on skin was the best feeling in the world, and he allowed his hands to travel all over her, up and down her back and then over her ass, which fit perfectly in his hands as he gripped her butt and pressed his cock against her.

  “Oh, God,” Louisa cried out, and buried her head in the crook of his neck. Her breath was warm against his neck, and despite the fact it would make him look like he had no control at all, he could feel his balls start to tighten as she reached a pace and friction that was guaranteed to get him off.

  “I want to feel you and hear you as you come, Louisa. Let go for me. Lose control in my arms, because I want to lose control in yours.” He instinctively knew she needed permission, that letting go was something she rarely allowed herself, which made the moment even more special. Even more meaningful.

  “Six, I…” It was a plea.

  “I’ve got you. I promise.” And he did. He couldn’t explain the connection, but he felt her with every fiber of his being, and he was certain that it should be scaring the shit out of him, but it wasn’t. It was only making him feel more … connected. “Look at me, Louisa, please,” he said, feeling his abs tighten as he got closer.

  Louisa lifted up and looked at him. The trust, the honesty he saw in her eyes as she chased her own orgasm was enough to push him over the edge. About to come, he wanted to ensure she came with him, so he held her tightly to him, increasing the pressure between them. He felt the moment she began to let go, and the way
her eyes fixed on his was his undoing.

  “Louisa,” he shouted as he came, and Louisa cried out and shook against him, finding her own release.

  Fuck. If it felt this good without even being inside her, he could only imagine how it would feel to be buried deep.

  His heart raced, and his hands shook at the power of his orgasm that was creating a sticky mess between them. He moved her off his chest and to his side, where he wrapped her in his embrace.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, all other words escaping him as he kissed the top of her head.

  They lay in silence for a moment as he got his breathing back under control.

  “Not that I mind in the slightest, but do you want to tell me why you’re in here?” Six asked her, lifting her chin with his finger so she would look at him. Her eyes were heavy lidded, but there was tension back in her shoulders already. Whatever she was thinking, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night. It just felt safer here, but I should go. I don’t think this was—”

  “If you are about to tell me this wasn’t a good idea, I’m going to have to strongly disagree.”

  “We just can’t—”

  A loud knock pounded on the door. “Wake the hell up, Viking.” Cabe was outside, likely with Mac. Shit.

  He kissed Louisa’s lips one more time. “We’ve got company,” he said, getting out of bed. “But you and I … we aren’t done with this conversation.”

  * * *

  “As jobs go, it couldn’t have gone any cleaner,” a voice she didn’t recognize said from the direction of the living room. As best as she could tell from footsteps and voices, two men had entered the house.

  “Straight ins and outs are the best kind. So happy airport reunion I’m guessing?” she heard Six say from the direction of the kitchen.

  “Yeah, we recommended they see a psychologist as soon as possible for…” The voices drifted off as if they were moving toward the dining room.

  Louisa pulled on her nightshirt and hurried from Six’s room to the one she’d attempted to sleep in the night before. The idea of getting caught doing the walk of shame, even if it was just between bedrooms, made her feel queasy. Quickly, she grabbed her new toiletry bag and brought it into the bathroom. She caught sight of herself in the simple square mirror hanging on a wall of aqua subway tiles. If she hadn’t been so stunned by her own reflection, she probably would have been envious of the beautiful bathroom. The reflection showed puffy lips and still-flushed skin that glowed as if she’d just bathed in some magical serum. Who knew the just-ravaged look would suit her? She emptied the contents of her toiletry bag onto the counter and placed the things she needed for the shower on a small shelf over the bathtub.

  Desperate for hot water to soothe her, she turned on the spray, letting it warm as she pulled her nightshirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Once under the spray, she allowed her mind to wander as she washed her hair and soaped herself. Between her legs was tender. No surprise given what she’d done earlier, and she was still totally at a loss to understand what had happened in Six’s bed. When she’d wandered the hallway the previous night, unable to sleep, the only implication that had occurred to her was that he might not be okay with her slipping into his bed for some security. That he might ask her not to do it again. Never in a million years would she have crawled into his bed if she’d known she was going to make a total fool of herself. In her limited experience, she’d never woken up so damn aroused. So … needy. Embarrassment filled her at the idea that she’d taken advantage of a man who hadn’t invited her to his bed. A man she’d woken up next to and then proceeded to ride as if she didn’t know one end of a man’s penis from another.

  Six probably used the word “cock” … or “dick” … or some stupid nickname like “Kong.” Meanwhile, she was being all prim and proper with her biological terms. He’d probably think she was prissy, or repressed, but she’d never had reason to think of that part of a man’s anatomy fondly. It had all been perfunctory in the past. Nice. Biological.

  But what had happened between her and Six was hands-down the best sexual experience of her life, and as much as she was currently mortified, the truth was she’d never forget the way he’d made her feel, the way she was certain he’d needed her just as much as she’d needed him, or the way that what they’d just done had silenced all the thoughts banging around in her head like firecrackers exploding in a small space.

  Gah. Why had she done it?

  It was unexpected.

  She’d begun to think she just wasn’t cut out for sex. Not asexual exactly, just too many other things going on in her life to focus on something that hovered toward the bottom of her to-do list. Nobody else had ever brought out that side of her, so the whole thing had been an exciting revelation. She had it in her to get truly turned on, so much so that she’d lost her inhibitions enough to orgasm in front of someone else. It had never happened before, and it had felt scary to let go of all the control she carried day to day, even if it was only for the briefest moment in time.

  And it clearly wasn’t a one-time thing for her, because what they’d done had left her yearning for so much more. Her body ached for him still, like an addict’s response to drugs. She could only imagine what it would be like if he knocked on the bathroom door and offered to step in the shower to scrub her back, or some other euphemism for taking her up against the wall until she came in a quivering mess in his arms.

  When she’d finished rinsing the soap away, she turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel off the shelf. It was incredibly soft and fluffy, which seemed at odds with her gun-toting SEAL.

  Once dry, she wrapped the towel around her chest and walked back into the bedroom. After last night, she wondered if she should consider unpacking. For now, she’d leave everything in shopping bags until they’d talked. She pulled on underwear, a pair of denim cutoffs, and a loose navy-blue short-sleeve blouse. With wet hair, she looked way younger than her thirty years, but seeing as she hadn’t been able to find a hair dryer in the bathroom, there was nothing she could do about it. She wasn’t about to walk out there and ask Six if he had one. Although chances were he didn’t. He was likely one of those people who just woke up in the morning looking perfect. Probably wide-awake too.

  Unlike her. She needed coffee to function. Perhaps that could explain her behavior this morning. If there wasn’t a rule that sex before coffee just didn’t count, then there should be. But coffee was out there. Where they were. She couldn’t face him. Or them. Whoever the voices were. Crap.

  She flopped back down on the bed.

  With a hand over her eyes, she attempted to separate her feelings. She tried a breathing trick she knew, slowing her breath to eight beats of her heart. The counting served as a distraction from the thoughts, and the breathing slowed her heart rate. The slower the heart rate, the slower she breathed. Virtuous circle. She knew that adrenaline, shock, and fear could make people do the craziest things, and she’d felt all three in the last twenty-four hours, so her behavior was understandable, right?

  You liked it.

  It was almost a whisper, but it was the truth.

  She’d liked it. And for all her sins she wanted to do it again. To see what mind-blowing sex could feel like. Because mind-blowing would be the only way it could be with him. It was as if Six had magically removed every inhibition she had.

  Louisa sat up on the bed. She was going to be mature about it. She was going to walk out there, get coffee, and act like jumping the bones of some poor man who’d taken pity on her happened every day.

  In a minute.

  No.

  Now.

  * * *

  “No problems with moving the weapons then?” Six asked.

  Mac shook his head. “None. I mean we have all the paperwork to move the guns from HQ to the airport.”

  Six thought about the tens of thousands they’d paid to get all the permits to store an
d move the guns in the tightly restricted state of California. “Ever wonder if it would have been cheaper to set up shop in Alaska, or Alabama?” He laughed.

  Cabe laughed. “Yeah, but then we’d have to live in Alaska. Remember cold-weather training, how miserable that was.”

  Memories of fingers right on the periphery of frostbite made Six shiver. Footsteps in the hallway snagged his attention. Louisa. His thoughts went back to what they’d done that morning. How she’d managed to creep into his bed without waking him was beyond him. Years of programming had him waking at the slightest sound, but for some reason she’d been able to sneak in without creating any kind of audible alert.

  She wandered into the kitchen, head down, wearing cutoffs that revealed the long legs he’d seen through her skirt at the fundraiser. His initial impression that they went on for days was completely true. And the cute blue blouse she was wearing was so her. A little prim, but it showed off the figure he was kicking himself for not really having paid attention to sooner.

  A piece of screwed-up paper hit him in the face, and he grinned as Mac raised his eyebrow at Six.

  “Hey, Lou,” he called to her, holding his hand out in her direction. It would be interesting to see whether or not she took it because the look she’d given him when he’d gotten out of bed had the makings of regret. “Cabe’s here. And I want you to meet Mac.”

  Gripping the cup with both hands as if her life depended on it, she walked over to the table. When her hair was wet, he noticed, it was harder for her to hide behind it, and he had a feeling she hated being this vulnerable in front of people. “I trust these guys with my life,” he said. “We’ve been friends since school, signed up together, and set up a business together. There isn’t much they don’t know about me, and I know they have my back.”