by Sybil Bartel
“Adopt him.”
He wanted to be my son’s father. Reality chased the joy and I exhaled. “Jason would never agree to that, if you could even find him.”
“I would like to talk to him.”
I stared, not sure what to address first. “You know where Jason is?”
He nodded once.
I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. It’d been months since Jason had walked out of my apartment. I’d known when he left what was happening, but all this time, if he was close, shouldn’t he have been at least trying to see his son? Confusion clouded my thoughts like it always did when Jason was involved. Conner hadn’t been missing his father, Viking was more a father to him in every way, but I was taken off guard by my anger toward Jason for his irresponsibility and Viking’s omission of truth. I pushed off Viking’s lap. “How long have you known where he was?”
“Always.”
I got up and went to the window. I didn’t give a shit that I was naked. We were thirty floors up and it was night. For the first time since I’d moved in, I cursed Viking’s condo. I wanted to feel grounded. I wanted to walk in the grass and smell the Florida night air but I’d passed on the house in Golden Beach because it’d been perfect for me. But perfect for me meant small and lower ceilings and a tiny fenced yard with tropical overgrowth and Viking was bigger than all of that. He’d swallowed that house. The second he stepped foot in it, it wasn’t a cute Key West-style bungalow, it was a space too small to hold a warrior.
So I’d picked the condo because it fit Viking. There were five bedrooms, the beach was at our feet and Conner had loved every single thing about the place the second he’d seen it. If he wasn’t asking to go to the rooftop pool, he was asking for the beach, or he’d sit and stare out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. And if I was being honest, I’d picked the condo because I’d wanted to know what it felt like to live like a princess. I could send my laundry out and have food delivered and I didn’t ever have to scrub a toilet. It was a fairy tale. Viking had told me fairy tales weren’t real but he was wrong. I was living one. Until this very moment. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“You did not ask.”
“That’s not something you really bring up in conversation. Hey, honey, have you seen my ex? Are you tracking him?” I turned. “Why would you even do that?” I thought I’d closed the Jason chapter in my life but here it was, in Viking’s and my bedroom, and I wasn’t happy about it. At all.
Sitting against the headboard, the moon casting shadows in sharp angles across his body, Viking looked imposing and untouchable. “This was an inevitability.”
All of a sudden, the Jason issue morphed into a Viking issue. “So you knew you would marry me? You just assumed I’d say yes? And now you’re going to adopt my kid and make everything perfect?” I said it like what he was doing was a crime but more than anything, I was caught off guard. I knew Viking calculated everything. He operated fifteen steps ahead of everyone else. He was concise and relentless but I’d spent two months sweating three little words while he’d planned our whole damn future. “And for the record, you never even asked me to marry you, you stated it. Just like you state everything else.” I spun back around and crossed my arms.
His breath touched my shoulder before his warm hand gently encircled my wrist. Pulling my arm from my chest, he placed my palm on the cool glass. “I did not ask because I am giving you what you want,” he said calmly, taking my other wrist in his free hand. “You wanted the fairy tale.” He placed my other hand on the glass. His lips touched my ear and his mouth coasted down my neck. “Spread your legs.”
Chill bumps raced the shockwave of anticipation until my whole body was quivering. “What are you doing?” I asked, breathless.
“Fucking you.” His mouth closed over the spot where my neck met my shoulder and he grazed his teeth across my sensitized skin.
I groaned loudly and tilted my head to give him better access. “I’m not done arguing with you,” I lied.
“Yes you are.” Reading my body, reading me, he put his mouth back on my neck and swirled his tongue.
I spread my legs and arched my ass out. His hard length slid between my cheeks then he shoved into me. Wet from before, aching for a release I’d never gotten, I cried out as he sank to the hilt and ground his hips.
Needing to touch him, I tried to pull a hand free but his grip on my wrists tightened and he thrust three more times. He was so big and thick that each stroke hit my G-spot, and my legs started to shake. My pussy clenched in desperation and my body ached for the mind-bending release only he could give me. “Harder,” I begged.
He started to pound into me.
My arms joined my legs and my whole body began to shake so bad, Viking pressed his chest to my back and thrust harder.
Furious, rhythmic, unrelenting, Viking fucked me.
And a second before the fall, my world fell into place.
Conner, babies, this warrior pounding into me—he was right. He’d given me everything. His love was the life he’d given me.
The orgasm leapt up and took me so hard, my head fell back and a thousand pounds of pressure burst from my core like exploding fireworks. Waves of release rained down on my body and I let the truth rush from my heart and slip past my lips. “God, I love you.”
One giant hand caught my hip, the other my neck and his lips touched my ear. “That…” He thrust hard. “I earned.”
My Viking exploded inside of me, filling me with his love.
THANK YOU!
Thank you so much for reading NEIL! If you were interested in leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads, I would be so appreciative! Reviews mean the world to authors. They are helpful beyond compare.
Thank you! XOXO
Do you want to know more about Blaze and Layna? You can read their complete story in The Unchecked Series. IMPOSSIBLE PROMISE, IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE, and IMPOSSIBLE END are all available now!
Turn the page to find out more about ANDRÉ (The Uncompromising Series Book #3) by Sybil Bartel coming March 2017.
ANDRÉ - The Uncompromising Series Book Three
André
One shot, one kill.
I was trained to operate in complete blackness. Not even the dead of night could protect you from my sniper rifle. I guarded my brothers and defended my country. Now I protect my clients. The personal security firm I built from the ground up is the best in the business because I leave nothing to chance. My life was exactly how I planned it, structured and controlled… until she crossed my path.
The dark-haired, hazel-eyed hellfire was supposed to be a one-night distraction. I’d show her exactly what to do with that smart mouth then leave before sunup. Except she made a single, flippant comment and every instinct I’d ever honed kicked in and my blood ran cold.
This woman wasn’t a distraction; she was going to get me killed.
I didn’t have a choice. I took her on as my client. But hoping her past doesn’t come after me isn’t an option. The US Marines didn’t train me to retreat, they taught me to aim…
One shot, one kill.
ANDRÉ is coming March 2017!
Add it to your Goodreads cue here!
Turn the page for an excerpt from TALON (The Uncompromising Series Book #1) by Sybil Bartel.
TALON - The Uncompromising Series Book One
Talon
I surf.
I fuck.
I pretend to smile.
Two years ago my life was perfect, until it wasn’t. I scattered my wife’s ashes then walked away from the Marines. I didn’t think I had anything left to lose.
I was wrong.
The blonde showed up on my doorstep beaten and stabbed. I did what I was trained to do—I stitched her up. I didn’t have a clue who she was and I told myself I didn’t care. Until they came looking for her.
I swore I’d take my last breath before I let anyone else hurt her, except I didn’t know she was keeping a deadly secret. Now I had two choices, her
life or mine.
Marriage and combat taught me the same thing—I was no one’s hero. And I was about to prove it.
TALON Excerpt:
Tired as fuck, I stared out the front window of my surf shop at the blonde across the street.
Kendall smirked. “She’s been out there since yesterday. You going to talk to her?”
I turned and took in my employee’s tight leather lace-up top. If I didn’t think she’d gut me in my sleep, I would’ve nailed her long ago. “Who you talkin’ ’bout?” I played dumb.
“Don’t pull that shit with me.” Kendall put her red-painted fingernail on the front window and tapped the glass. “She’s been parked in the same spot since yesterday afternoon and that…is not a purse.” She pointed at the small duffel next to Nicole’s feet. “That’s an I-left-my-man bag.”
Fuck. She was probably right. Nicole’s boyfriend was an asshole. He worked at the shop where I took my bike. He was a decent mechanic but I’d seen him out at enough bars to know Randy was a fucking tool when he drank. If he wasn’t starting a fight, he was mouthing off to someone. I’d never figured how he’d scored someone as sweet as Nicole. “Maybe she’s just gettin’ a little sun. Nothin’ wrong with a beach day.”
“First of all, I know you’re not that stupid. And second, a beach day would entail a towel and a bikini and your feet actually hitting the sand, not parking your ass on the beach wall.” Kendall threw her hands up. “But if you want to be a dick and not help her…” She trailed off and sauntered back toward the register.
Goddamn it. I didn’t want to deal with this shit. I’d driven all night to get home and minus a quick stop at my house for a shower, I’d come straight to work. All I wanted to do was finish the surfboard I was working on, catch some waves, and get a decent night’s sleep. I needed to forget about women, all women, including the one with her back to me, sitting on the beach wall looking lost as hell. As if she’d heard me, Nicole wrapped her arms around her stomach and shivered.
“Shit. It’s eighty-five degrees out,” I muttered.
Kendall looked up from taking inventory. “It’s Florida. Your point?”
“Nothin’,” I snapped, walking back to my office. I grabbed my keys and my 9mm, tucking it into my back waistband and pulling my T-shirt over it. For once I was glad I was in jeans instead of board shorts.
“Expecting trouble?” Kendall smirked.
It was a stupid question. She knew Nicole’s boyfriend. If Randy was around, there was trouble. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
She crossed her arms. “That’s what everyone says—right before they take a bullet between the eyes.”
Anyone else saying those words, it would’ve been a warning. But Kendall followed it with a smile that was one hundred percent meant to rile.
I pushed past her. “Watch the shop.”
Her voice went sugary sweet. “Gee, Kendall, can you please look after my store while I run out and play hero? I know you’re here more than me but I really appreciate it. You’re such a good friend and employee to have.” Then she dropped the pretense and yelled, “You don’t pay me enough!”
She was probably right. “Buy yourself lunch. Take it out of the register.” Sunglasses on, I stepped out into the humid morning.
I crossed the street and five paces away, I knew something was wrong. Nicole wasn’t hugging herself, she was cradling her arm. Her hair disheveled, her T-shirt stained and ripped, there was mottling all over the back of her neck.
Goddamn it. If that fucker had hit her, I was gonna hit him back. My fists clenched and I slowed my pace. Making a wide arc, I approached from the side of her good arm and stopped three feet away. “Hey, Nic.”
Her back straightened but she kept her face hidden behind her hair and a huge pair of sunglasses. She didn’t say shit.
I looked out at the ocean. “Nice day for the beach.”
No response.
“You’re not workin’ today?” I couldn’t remember what she did but Randy, the prick, complained about her working all the time. When she didn’t answer, I hopped up on the wall next to her and she flinched. “Hey hey hey, darlin’. Nothin’ doin’, just sittin’ a spell. That all right?” I tried to look at her face but she ducked her head and shrugged one shoulder. I glanced at her arm. There was no blood or bone jutting out, but the way she was holding it, something was wrong. She looked skittish as hell so I didn’t push. “Good day to catch some sun.” I scanned the beach for any sign of Randy.
She didn’t answer and I didn’t see him, so I started counting sets. The waves were shit and whatever the hell was wrong with her, I didn’t want to deal. I’d bet my bank account it was tied up around Randy. Veteran or not, he was an asshole.
I was starting to lose patience with the waiting game when she shifted slightly and I felt her eyes dart toward me.
“I think he’s dead,” she barely whispered.
I pushed my sunglasses up and turned. Motherfucker. “Take your sunglasses off,” I demanded.
She gingerly pulled them down her face.
Anger surged. “What the hell did he do to you?” The whole left side of her face was a mess—eye swollen, lip split, cheek bruised and purpling. She quickly hung her head but I caught her chin. “Oh, no you don’t.” I held her face in place, surveying the damage. “What the fuck did he use? A goddamn two-by-four?” No fist caused this. I was going to kill him if he wasn’t dead already.
“I fell,” she said nervously.
“Bullshit.”
She pulled her chin free. “It’s true. I fell into the doorframe.”
“Fell or was pushed? And what do you mean, dead?”
She looked away. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “Cops after you?”
“No…I don’t think so.”
I pushed off the wall then reached for her. “C’mon. First things first, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She leaned back, clutching her arm tight.
The look of fear in her eyes went straight to my gut. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’, I promise.” I put my hands on her small waist. “C’mon, let me help you down.”
She didn’t fight me but when her feet hit the ground, her leg gave out and she fell into my chest. She let out a small cry of pain and my arms were around her in a nanosecond. The scent of jasmine broadsided me.
“Shh, shh, I gotcha.” Jesus, she smelled incredible. Sunshine and innocence and sweet jasmine mingled around in my head and threatened to take hold.
“Sorry,” she breathed out, her voice laced with pain.
Something stirred in my chest but I shut it down and my former military training kicked in. I went into medic mode. “Can you walk?”
“Mm-hm.” Her face strained, she cautiously put her foot down and her hand landed on my stomach for support.
The second she touched me, I forgot all my training. I stared at her small, beaten body and anger ripped through my veins at the thought of someone doing this to her. “You lyin’?”
She panted through a few short breaths then shook her head.
“Nic?” I growled, two seconds away from picking her up.
Her hand slid to my side and trembling fingers dug into my waist. “Yeah?”
I vowed then and there that Randy fucking Carter was going to pay for this. Forcing my voice to a calm I didn’t feel, I gently wrapped my hand around her good arm. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. If you don’t think anythin’ is broken, find your balance.”
“Nothing’s broken.” Determination in her voice, she inhaled and tested her weight on her leg. “I can walk.”
“Good girl.” Without thinking, I stroked her hair.
Startled, she looked up and big blue eyes full of mistrust met my gaze.
Everything went still. The bullshit chaos in my head, grief, anger, it all went quiet like the flip of a switch—a fucking jasmine switch.
Forcing myself to move back, I grabbed her duffel. “C’m
on.”
She took an unsteady step.
“Nic?” It was everything I could do not to pick her up.
“I’m okay.”
Jesus. “No, you’re not. But I’m gonna see what I can do ’bout that.” I wrapped an arm around her for support and she instantly leaned into me.
I walked her across the street to the surf shop I owned and led her into my office in back. For once, Kendall kept her head down and her mouth shut.
When I set Nic in a chair, she winced and the leg she’d been favoring stayed straight out in front of her. “Thank you.”
Enough with this bullshit. “Where else are you hurt?” I demanded.
“My wrist.”
I stared at her. Blonde hair tossed by the wind, her clothes a mess, her face beaten to hell, she was still beautiful. I caved. “All right. I’ll play this your way.”
I squatted next to her and my training took over. I inspected the swelling on her cheek and gently pushed at the surrounding bone. She didn’t flinch but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fractured. I pulled her wrist toward me and turned her hand over in mine and she sucked in a stilted breath. “Tell me what happened.”
She gave me the one-shoulder shrug again.
I felt my way up the rest of her arm. “Where’s Randy?”
“At the apartment. I think.”
Nothing else seemed injured. “Was he breathing when you left?” I gently placed her wrist back in her lap. It was broken.
She slowly exhaled. “I don’t know.”
I stood and crossed my arms, leaning on my desk. “But you think he’s dead?”
“He didn’t really look like he was breathing.” Her voice was soft and breathy but the words were emotionally detached.