by Cat Johnson
“What are you gonna do with that?” he asked, his voice husky.
“This.” Lydia leaned forward and slid him between her lips.
He reached down to lay his palm against the back of her head and hissed in a breath when she sank lower over him.
Mack slid down on the sofa, driving him deeper into her throat. He groaned in reaction.
Lydia could count the number of times she’d done this on one hand and still have fingers left over, but judging by his reaction, she was doing all right.
That gave her the confidence to attack the job at hand with more enthusiasm. He rewarded her effort with a mumbled cuss that she chose to interpret as a compliment.
She’d been unable to resist him, even when she should have, such as today in the kitchen. Now, she wanted him to lose control because of her.
It seemed her plan was working. Mack thrust into her mouth as she worked him with hand and tongue until she heard him groan.
Inspired, she moved faster, working him harder. His quickened motion, his breathing getting faster, his moans louder, all told her he was close even before he held deep and she tasted his release.
A few more pulses and he slumped against the cushions, panting, with barely enough breath to say, “Holy shit, that was good.”
Silly girl that she was, she couldn’t have asked for better praise. She beamed at his words, until he leaned forward, reached down behind her and slipped her dress up over her ass.
He slid his hand beneath her underwear, then breached her with his fingers.
Briefly she’d felt as if she’d been in charge. Even on her knees, while he’d been in her mouth she’d controlled him. She’d dictated his pleasure.
That feeling was completely gone. The power had shifted. It was clear Mack held it now, as surely as his hands gripped the fleshy globes of her ass.
The sound of a slap echoed off the walls as he brought a palm down against one of her butt cheeks, leaving a hot sting behind.
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath that elicited a satisfied smile from Mack.
“I do love you on your knees, but I want you on them on my bed. I’ve got big plans for you in that position.”
She had no desire for him to see her big naked butt from behind. And she had no idea what his plans for her were, so she should have had plenty of doubt about doing this.
But there was no question as to what her answer would be. Her breath was coming faster already and they hadn’t even gotten to the bedroom yet.
Lydia swallowed. “Okay.”
CHAPTER 11
Mack could get used to this. Lounging in his big, soft bed. The warm body pressed next to him. The feeling of being so relaxed he could fall into a light sleep. The satisfying knowledge that after he dozed for a bit he could wake up, enjoy her and then sleep some more.
Would this get old after a while? Maybe. Probably.
Who knew? He could only imagine he wouldn’t get tired of any of it for a good long while.
After all the months he’d spent working vampire hours, trying to sleep during the day while in a crappy rack in a room full of guys, he figured it would be quite a while before he got tired of this bed. Or this woman.
Lydia had proven more than once tonight she could spit anger at him one moment, then nearly bring him to his knees just from seeing her naked in front of him on hers.
Oh yeah. It would be a good long time before he’d tire of this spitfire’s smart sexy mouth, and for once he wasn’t just thinking about the way she’d used it on him today.
His cell phone on the nightstand buzzed with a text alert. He glanced at the time on the clock and groaned. The glowing numbers showed eleven-sixteen.
A text coming through this late at night could only mean one thing. There was something happening in the world he needed to know about. Something that could get him called in.
Another time, with a different girl in his bed, and he’d welcome the action.
Not tonight.
He glanced at Lydia. The room was so dark he could barely make out her features but he could hear her breathing, slow and steady.
Before the alert went off again, he reached for the phone and swiped the screen.
A text from Rocky, one of his teammates, appeared.
You watching TV?
These guys didn’t text at twenty-three hundred on a Sunday night with idle chatter about what show was on television.
This couldn’t be good. Something was definitely up.
No. Should I? Mack finished punching in the reply and hit send.
Yup
That single texted word from Rocky had Mack drawing in a breath as he bit back a curse. At least it wasn’t from command. He wasn’t being recalled, but if shit was going down somewhere it wouldn’t be long before he was.
Then what?
How would he explain to Lydia he had to leave in the middle of the night when he hadn’t been honest with her about what his job really entailed?
Hopefully he was worrying about nothing. He still needed to get up and see what was happening though. With one more glance at the sleeping woman next to him, Mack flipped back the covers and stood.
His foot connected with fabric on the floor. Reaching down his hand hit on his underwear. That would be good enough to sit in his own living room in the middle of the night.
He managed to wrestle the briefs over his feet and up his legs while still holding his phone and without falling over. Chalk one up to all the PT and obstacle courses he’d run over his career that had honed his sense of balance.
Creeping out of the bedroom doorway, he pulled the door closed behind him.
In the living room, he hit the power button on the television. The glow lit the room enough he didn’t need to turn on the lamp.
He lowered the volume so as not to disturb Lydia and glanced at the screen. He had been about to switch to a cable news channel when he saw he wouldn’t have to. The network station that was already on displayed the headline that Rocky must have been texting him about.
At least 20 dead in hotel attack. Unknown number of hostages still being held.
Mack let out a breath of acceptance and sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward to better hear.
Hostages. That meant it was an ongoing situation, but it also meant that time was of the essence and the UN Security Forces would most likely bring in teams already on the ground nearby rather than risk the time it would take to fly in a unit from the States.
The words on the screen changed.
Gunmen shouted “Allahu akbar”.
The terrorists’ favorite battle cry. That little piece of info put this situation right inside the Naval Special Warfare Development Group’s core goals and responsibilities—fighting terrorism around the globe.
Mack strained to hear what country he could very well be heading to next.
A map flashed onto the screen with the country of Mali highlighted in yellow.
Africa. He’d just left there days ago.
“No group has come forward to claim responsibility,” the on screen reporter announced.
A small group of gunman hitting a soft target—it could be anybody. Boko Haram. ISIS. Hell, it could be a small cell of sympathizers or a radical faction trying to make a name for themselves.
“Mack?” Lydia’s sleepy voice preceded her entrance into the living room.
She was dragging his comforter behind her as she wrapped it around herself. She looked so much like a little kid dragging around her blanket that he had to smile.
“Hey. Sorry if I woke you.”
“It’s okay.” She managed to sit next to him on the sofa without tripping on the fabric. She focused sleepy eyes on the television. “What’s going on?”
“Hostage situation.” He pulled her back against him welcoming the combined warmth of Lydia and the bedclothes.
The room was cool since he slept better when he kept the thermostat set low, but that was when he was in bed, not on the sofa in nothing but his
underwear.
She watched the broadcast with him for a few minutes before she shook her head. “That’s so scary. If that ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Now that she mentioned it, it was scary for him too. Malls. Schools. Theaters. They were all places that were targeted far too often for his liking and those were all places Lydia could easily be.
Besides being baffled at a shooter’s motivation, he was angry. Only cowards tried to kill innocent civilians, some of them young children.
He turned his attention from the flickering screen to her. “I’ll tell you what you do. If there is ever an active shooter, at your college or the shopping mall or the movies, you run first. If possible, get the hell out of there as quickly as you can. Most fatalities occur within the first five minutes of the situation. If you can’t get out, you hide until you can get out. And if you can’t run and you can’t hide, as a last resort you fight. You and everyone around you fight him. You’ll outnumber him. He’ll have to reload. It’ll give you time to strike. Use anything you can get your hands on.”
“But—”
“No buts, Lydia. That’s what you do. Run. Hide. Fight. I know what I’m talking about. Now, repeat it back to me. What do you do?”
“Run, hide, fight.”
Mack nodded. “Good.”
He’d let his emotions get the better of him and scared her. He could see it in her face. He’d heard it in the tremor in her voice.
He pulled her tighter against him. She came willingly, snuggling as closely against him as the comforter would allow.
There was a chance he’d be leaving soon, for God only knew how long. If not for this situation, then for something else.
Turkey. Syria. Iraq. Africa. There was always somewhere to go and something to do for a man with his level of training and experience in the service of Uncle Sam.
But he was here now.
Mack dipped his head and captured her lips. She let out one of those little sounds that cut right to his core and he was immediately raring to go.
Live for the moment because tomorrow he could die. Or at the very least be on the other side of the world from her. Either way, he was taking advantage of the time he had left here.
He tried to get his hand beneath the covers wrapped around her and found her cocoon too hard to penetrate.
“Get rid of this thing.”
An adorable wrinkle creased the skin between her eyebrows. “But it’s cold in here.”
“I’ll warm you up.” There was no doubt in his mind about that.
Hard as a rock and determined to give her one hell of a send off just in case he was going to have to leave, Mack was already getting hot.
“Okay.” The complete trust in her eyes as she let the covers go twisted something inside him.
“You have classes tomorrow?” he asked.
“Not until afternoon. I’ll have to leave early enough to drive back to my apartment and get ready for class, but I won’t have to leave too early.” Her answer made him happier than it should.
“Good.”
Command could call him in at any second. He could be on a different continent tomorrow. No notice. No details.
In spite of all that, he was already planning on having her in his bed for a good part of the morning. That was so wrong, he shouldn’t even be thinking about it until he told her what she could expect from him.
One night together might not have given her expectations about them. About the future. But two nights together, on top of a day spent with family? That most certainly would.
He was going to have to deal with this situation. Tell her he wasn’t just the sailor he’d let her think he was. Sooner would probably be better than later.
So why wasn’t he telling her?
Because she was soft and warm and waiting for him to divest her of the comforter so they could get to business.
He was more than happy to oblige.
Meanwhile, pictures continued to flash across the screen telling of trouble brewing on the other side of the world.
Trouble that, though she didn’t know it, would likely take him far away from her.
CHAPTER 12
Lydia heard the noise but in her sleepy state of mind she couldn’t comprehend what it was or what to do about it.
Luckily, she didn’t have to. The bed shifted and she heard Mack say softly, “MacIntyre.”
The noise must have been his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand.
Relieved she didn’t have to get up and do anything, she snuggled lower beneath the covers, but now she was awake. Enough so she started to ponder things such as who the hell was calling at the crack of dawn?
It had to be early. If her view of the darkened bedroom through the one small crack between her eyelids was any indication the sun wasn’t even up yet.
Who could be calling Mack before sunrise? His father? Was something wrong with either his dad or her mom?
Wide awake now, Lydia rolled over to try and hear better, but Mack had already gotten out of bed and was heading for the door of the bedroom.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
He glanced back and pressed the phone against his bare chest. “Fine. Go back to sleep.”
Then he was gone, out in the other room where she couldn’t hear what he was saying to the mysterious caller.
There was no way she could do as he suggested and go back to sleep now. Not with the puzzle of who could be on that phone at this hour hanging over her head.
Gathering the comforter around herself, half so he wouldn’t see her walking around naked and half because it was cold, she finally stumbled across the room.
By the time she reached the doorway, he’d finished and was headed back toward her.
Quick conversation.
She frowned, more interested in knowing who’d called than ever. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He paused, which only served to ramp up her curiosity to another level. Mack drew in a breath and pushed past her in the doorway. He tossed the cell onto the dresser and turned to face her. “Look, I got called into base so I’m going to have to leave as soon as I shower and get dressed.”
“What? Now? Why?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Something came up.”
“But it’s not even six yet.”
“My command doesn’t really care about the time.” He smiled and came closer. “But seriously, you can go back to bed. Sleep a little longer.”
“You mean without you here?”
“Yeah, sure. Just lock the door on the way out.”
“Um, okay.”
He tipped his head toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna jump in the shower.”
Lydia nodded. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and was off, leaving her as confused as before she’d known who’d called.
There was no way she’d be able to sleep.
She wouldn’t mind taking her time waking up, showering, getting dressed, at least waiting until the sun was up before she hit the road. But for a guy she’d only known for two days to leave her in his apartment alone felt strange.
Worse than that, the temptation to snoop was strong. What secrets did this man have?
Then again, the place was pretty sparse. There wasn’t much of anything in the apartment at all. Bare bones furniture and appliances. No décor to speak of.
That wasn’t really a surprise for a bachelor pad, but there wasn’t even the usual clutter of manly stuff. No basketball in the corner. No pile of dirty laundry on the floor. Not much more than the questionable looking condiments she’d spotted in the door of the fridge when she’d gone looking for a bottle of water.
It was like he slept here but that was it . . . aside from showering.
Lydia could hear the water in the bathroom and her stomach did a little flip as she remembered when she’d been in there with him.
As much as shower sex wasn’t really her thing—nothing worse than nakedness and bright bathroom lights—s
he still remembered it fondly as she felt like her leaving today was some sort of end.
Though technically it was him leaving her . . . to go to work at the Navy base before sunrise. That thought brought a frown back to her brow.
She’d have to look into this military stuff and see if that was normal. What she knew about the Navy came from what she’d seen on TV. But since she didn’t think Mack worked for the NCIS people, he wasn’t running off to solve crimes, so what was he doing?
If he wasn’t so willingly leaving her alone in his apartment she’d be suspicious he had a girlfriend or something. That would be easy enough to check out with his father, she supposed, unless this girl was a secret from his family too.
But then again, there’d be evidence of a woman here and there definitely wasn’t that Lydia could see.
Testing the theory, she moved closer to the nightstand. She glanced at the bathroom door. The water was still running so she got brave and pulled open the drawer just a bit.
The sound of the two double-A batteries rolling in the drawer seemed deafening in the quiet room. She hissed in a breath and glanced at the closed bathroom door again, as if Mack was going to come flying through it to catch her snooping.
She slid the drawer closed and breathed in, relieved but still baffled.
Two batteries. Probably left over from a four-pack he bought for his TV remote control, if she had to take a guess.
No junk. No pens or paper or tissues. Not even any condoms.
Still tired and cold, as well as perplexed, she crawled back into bed. Maybe Mack would decide not to go in and instead slip back under the covers with her.
Smiling at the thought, Lydia laid against the pillow.
The sound of the water stopped and after a few moments more, the doorknob of the bathroom jiggled.
She opened her eyes at the sound of Mack’s soft curse. He sat on the edge of the mattress and laid his hand on top of her leg. “You’re making it hard to leave.”
She wasn’t sure what about her being buried deep beneath his fluffy comforter was so tempting but she’d take the compliment. “Then don’t. Stay here.”
“I wish I could.” He sighed and glanced at the clock. “I’d better get going.”