Extreme Honor

by Piper J. Drake

  He caught her by surprise, dipping low and hoisting her up in his arms, and she squealed. Embarrassed, she buried her face in his shoulder but he only chuckled as he strode into the bedroom.

  “I like the sounds you make.” His voice was rough, deepened with a need she’d only recently started to get to know.

  She clung to him as he lowered her onto the bed, coming down on top of her. “I like the things you do to me.”

  “Yeah?” He smiled against her lips and pressed his pelvis into hers.

  “Mmm.” She nuzzled his neck and then set her teeth against his skin.

  He paused, his hands tightening on her body. “Do that again.”

  She did, this time sucking a little as she bit him.

  He groaned and kneed her legs apart. When he pushed his thigh higher between her legs, she let her eyes flutter shut and her head fall backward. “Tease.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, this? Not this.”

  His weight lifted off her then and her eyes flew open as she looked for him. But David hadn’t left, only rolled off the bed to chuck his clothes off. He gave her a challenging look, his eyebrow arched, and she smiled and pulled off her own shirt. She was wriggling out of her jeans when he rejoined her on the bed and helped pull them down her legs.

  Fun. Lighthearted. She couldn’t help smiling. This was different from her other experiences with men. Those had been short, to the point, and just about the sex. With David, there was give and take, fun and moments of passion to steal her breath away. She learned about him when they were together like this, in ways that didn’t involve conversation. And she learned new things about herself, too, parts of her personality he brought out in her.

  He caressed and kissed his way up her legs, bringing her thoughts back to exactly what he was doing. When he reached her panties, he ran a finger under the edge until she squirmed. Grasping both sides, he pulled those down and tossed them over the edge of the bed to join her pants.

  “Pretty.” His gaze ran over her from her toes, up her legs, and lingered over her sex before traveling up her belly to her breasts and finally finding her gaze, holding steady there. “So incredibly pretty.”

  Heat filled her everywhere his gaze had gone, and that was all over. She bit her lip.

  His gaze still holding hers, he cupped her sex in one hand and reached up to caress one of her breasts. His touch was so intimate, comforting and compelling at the same time. When his fingers parted her, exploring and teasing her entrance, she let her eyes flutter closed and arched her back.

  One of his fingers entered her and she bucked, the pleasure of his touch already driving her crazy. Then his other hand, caressing her breast as it was, shifted just enough for him to brush her nipple with his thumb. She cried out.

  “Wet and hot.” He slid his finger in and out of her in a slow rhythm. “Is this the way you like me to touch you?”

  She panted. If he wanted her to use words, he was a cruel man.

  Then he pushed two fingers into her and she arched for him again, fisting the sheets.

  He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Oh good. She’d keep breathing and words could come later. Because the way he continued to touch her, play with her, was sending pleasure coursing through her body until it coiled low in her abdomen. When he found her clitoris with his thumb, adding pressure in time with the slide of his fingers inside her, she lost ability to think at all.

  He petted her through the orgasm, prolonging it with gentle strokes. And when she opened her eyes again, he climbed over her, putting on the condom as she watched. Then he leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. “May I?”

  She loved the way he asked, didn’t presume, each time. In answer, she twined her legs with his and looked deep into his eyes, then nodded.

  He reached down with one hand and positioned himself, then entered her in a smooth slide. She gasped as he filled her, her muscles stretching to accommodate him. This was another way they fit, so, so well.

  Once he was buried to the hilt inside her, he paused, his breath hot in her ear. Then he began to move, firm and steady, pulling out and sliding back into her in a deep steady rhythm.

  She groaned, her already sensitized body rising to a crest again. “David, please.”

  Not even sure what she was asking for, she clutched at his shoulders, tried to encourage him. He drove into her faster, harder, his hands reaching around her to cup her behind and angle her for an even better fit. Every stroke pushed her closer to the edge until she arched under him helplessly, gasping.

  He buried his face into her shoulder and growled as he came too, shuddering with the power of his release.

  Lyn kept her arms wrapped around him as he slowly relaxed, lowering his weight onto her. His breath was hot against her skin and after a few moments, he rolled to one side and rose up to give her a quick kiss on the bridge of her nose.

  “Be right back.” He went into the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a cool, damp washcloth to help wipe her down.

  This was a gesture she appreciated, too. His care, and the way he wanted to see to her comfort, took their time together beyond sex to something much more intimate. She wanted this.

  Once he settled back onto the bed with her, she snuggled up against his side, content.

  “What’s on the agenda for Atlas’s training later today?”

  He froze next to her.

  Unsettled, she rose up on one arm so she could see his face. “I didn’t mean to break the mood. No work talk in bed?”

  She’d said it in a semi-teasing tone, but lost even that as his brows drew together.

  He sat up. “I’d wanted to talk to you about this, but I didn’t plan for us to get distracted.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Us sleeping together is getting distracted?”

  He reached out and ran his hand up her arm. “You are absolutely a distraction, in really good ways. Please don’t take this wrong.”

  She drew in a slow breath. “Okay. I’ll try not to, but let’s get back to what you got distracted from.”

  “This is going to be bad timing.” He eyed her with trepidation.

  Oh, great. “Better bad timing than not talking to me at all.”

  He nodded, ran a hand through his hair, then got started. “I was coming over here to talk to you about how we were going to move forward with Atlas’s training schedule.”

  She nodded. So far, nothing to be worried about.

  “You’ve done incredible things with his rehabilitation. His socialization is up to par based on the last couple of days of travel.” He paused and she waited. His words came out faster. “I wanted to suggest we adjust your participation in his training to intermittent sessions while I focus more on his specialized skill sets for explosives detection and human search.”

  It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. Dogs like Atlas searched out humans for other reasons than the search-and-rescue dogs trained in the United States. There were other reactions built into Atlas’s training, other behaviors expected. He was expected to act more independently in the search and respond differently on locating said human. She could understand how she didn’t have the experience in the training technique to work with Atlas for those behaviors.

  Still, this was more than two trainers talking about techniques. She gathered the sheets up around her, suddenly vulnerable.

  “Intermittent.” She said the word slowly. “What sort of intervals?”

  “Well, maybe twice this coming week, then we could move to once a week or even once every other week. You could go check on your other clients and come back for his sessions.” David’s voice had gone neutral, the way he did when he wanted to distance himself from a situation. Compartmentalizing.

  “You want me to leave.” Oh God, and they’d just slept together. “This was good-bye sex?”

  “No!” He tried to reach for her but stopped when she flinched back.

  “Sounds like it is.” Embarrassment and anger bu
rned through her.

  “I don’t want to say good-bye, Lyn, but I want you safe.” David didn’t sound neutral anymore. In fact, the urgency in his tone drew her gaze back to his. “Atlas and me, we’re in this. We’re going to find out exactly what happened to Calhoun and we’re going to make sure this video doesn’t get buried. The deeper we get into this, the more likely shit is going to rain down around my head. I want you clear of it all.”

  She couldn’t argue with the danger. The car chase the other night had frightened the hell out of her.

  “When this is over, I’d like to come to you.” David leaned toward her. “Or you can come back here, whichever you want. I’d like for us to see where this thing between us goes.”

  “But you want me to give up my work with Atlas. Just leave.” She gritted her teeth. “I think you need to grab your clothes and step out.”

  “Lyn—”

  She shook her head. “You want me to think about this with a cool head, you need to take yourself out of here.”

  He studied her for a minute, then did as she asked.

  Chapter Eighteen

  What’s wrong?”

  Cruz scowled at Rojas where he sat at the breakfast bar playing some game on his smartphone. “Who says anything’s wrong?”

  “You’ve been glued to Lyn’s side since she got here.” Forte pulled open the fridge and peered inside. “If you’re not with her, you’re with the dogs or in your office at your computer. Since you walked in here and sat your ass down in a chair, I figure Rojas’s got a point. Something’s wrong.”

  “True.” Cruz took the beer Forte offered him and took a swig as he thought about how to fix the mess he’d made. He didn’t hide anything from Forte or Rojas. It was part of the reason they were able to live with each other. Trust.

  In fact, he’d sought them out. Staying inside your own head for too long resulted in spinning wheels. He needed their perspectives to see his way clear.

  “So where’s Lyn?” Forte asked, leaning against the counter.

  The three of them lingered like this sometimes. It wasn’t as if they were lifelong friends. They’d served together and in a lot of ways they knew more about each other, because of that intense period of time, than most people ever found out in a lifetime. It’d been Forte who’d told Cruz and Rojas to come to Pennsylvania. And hell, Cruz hadn’t had anyplace in particular he’d wanted to go right out of the service. Neither had Rojas. The man had only had one prerequisite: a safe place to raise his daughter. Hope’s Crossing Kennels had been a place to start, and if Cruz hadn’t been a fit he’d have moved on. Only, Forte had made it the right place to be for all of them. Expectations were straightforward. Life was pretty simple. And it was a life.

  Cruz hadn’t realized he’d been missing anything until Lyn came along, and now he’d told her to leave.

  “Packing.” Cruz sounded sullen and he didn’t want to. It’d been a solid decision. Logical.

  The other two men froze.

  After a moment, Rojas started playing his game again. “You get into a fight or decide things were getting too complicated?”

  Of course the other two had noticed. They’d spent their military careers taking cues from body posture, subtle signals, and the smallest gestures. Either of them could’ve noticed the new intimacy in the way Lyn responded to him from the moment they’d returned. Maybe even as soon as they’d stepped out of the car. He’d have noticed if it’d been one of them.

  “Complicated.” Cruz scowled at the beer. It was cold but not cold enough. Or he was too irritated to enjoy it. “This thing with the video Calhoun sent me. There’s too much shit involved. She’d be in the line of fire.”

  Cruz glanced around. Rojas’s daughter was likely over at the cottage they shared but he should’ve checked before shooting off his mouth. They all tried to keep the cursing to a minimum around the Boom. Unfortunately, the kid walked around quiet as a cat and hell, they all cursed worse than sailors.

  Rojas shook his head without taking his eyes off his game. “Woman’s already been attacked twice. At the hotel and right here on this property.”

  Forte growled.

  “Not a one of us is happy about how that happened and it won’t happen again,” Rojas continued. They all had reasons to ensure the security of this place. It’d become a haven. It needed to stay that way. “But what I’m saying is this: she’s already been yanked directly into the middle of whatever is going on. You’re not going to save her any issues by sending her away.”

  Forte nodded. “Whoever tossed her hotel room thought she had information and it was before we even knew what Calhoun had left with Atlas. They think she’s a part of it and she is at risk no matter how far away you send her.”

  Cruz scowled. “I can keep focus on me. I’ve got lines on at least one more of the SEALs on that team. One of them is going to give away more than they intend to. We’re all good, but over enough time we all develop cracks in our stories.”

  He hadn’t been a SEAL but he’d been Special Forces. And he’d been a man with secrets to keep. The trouble with need-to-know information was if you knew, you didn’t want to. Secrets lived with you forever and eventually you were desperate for a way to purge them. One of these guys wished he was out but he had family to protect. There had to be at least one or two more who wanted out.

  “Maybe so.” Forte spoke slowly. He had a tendency to think as he spoke and random brilliance occasionally fell out of his mouth. Most of the time, though, it was bullshit. Still, the rare jewels of wisdom were worth it. “I’m thinking anyone with enough influence to have SEALs afraid on domestic soil, not just on a mission, has a far enough reach to cause her harm the minute she leaves this property.”

  So this time was one of those one in a million moments where Forte’s point was so true, it should’ve been obvious to David from the beginning.

  Cruz cursed again.

  “It’s too dangerous here. They’ve got eyes on her already.” Cruz couldn’t see a way to get Lyn out of this mess. “She’s got clients on the West Coast, a business to run after all this is over.”

  “And she planned to be here until this project was complete, right?” Rojas asked.

  “Yeah. It was open-ended, though. No idea when Atlas is going to be declared recovered.” Beckhorn had Cruz’s back on that. It was the way any of them worked. They took as long as the dog needed to be ready for the work it had to do. And every dog was different.

  “I’m guessing she didn’t have clients scheduled any time soon because of that.” Rojas could be so damned reasonable. “She’s not going to have an immediate job to pick up where this one lets off.”

  Great. More guilt to add to the weight in Cruz’s chest.

  He shook his head. “You’ve both got good thoughts. No disrespect here, but I’ve got a gut feeling. She needs to get out of here. I’ve got no logic to go up against the reasoning you’ve put out there. It’s just a feeling.”

  And even as he admitted it, he hated it. Because it wasn’t a logical decision. He didn’t have good reasons even if he’d convinced himself he did. And Lyn was a smart woman. She’d have refuted his reasons every bit as effectively as Forte and Rojas had just done if Cruz had given her a chance. Only he hadn’t. And he’d probably damaged whatever it was between them in the process.

  She was very mad at him. And when she had time to cool off and really think it through, she was going to be over here to tell him exactly what his two best friends already had.

  He raised his gaze and looked each of them directly in the eyes. “Something isn’t right. She needs to get someplace safe.”

  They got it. He could see it in their expressions. Sometimes it wasn’t about logic. They’d all learned to follow their instincts when everything else in the world told them to do different. Following those gut feelings had seen them through hell and back, through multiple deployments each. Sometimes the world didn’t make sense.

  “You could lose her if you push her out of here
.” Rojas’s warning was almost inaudible. He would know. He’d lost a wife by pushing her away. “If she decides to move on before you catch back up with her, are you ready to deal with that?”

  No.

  Cruz swallowed. “I’m going to have to.”

  This was the right thing to do. And if nothing else, each one of them did his damned best to do the right thing.

  * * *

  When Lyn came through the door, both Forte and Rojas made a break for it.

  “Good luck, man.” Forte gave him a parting slap on the back.

  Great thing about brotherhood: they were willing to leave a man to the inevitable without any witnesses to see him ripped to shreds. Cruz appreciated it.

  Lyn strode into the kitchen and came to a stop outside of arm’s reach. The distance she left between them hit him like a brick wall. She’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a soft knit top. Its fabric clung to her curves and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands over her. Her hair was gathered up in a knot, looking suspiciously wet. She must’ve taken a shower. He should’ve stayed and joined her.

  But no. He’d gone and pushed her away, so he needed to clear his head of things he shouldn’t be caught up in thinking and focus on what she had to say. Thing was, she muddied up his brain process without even trying.

  She lifted her chin. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Not one of your reasons holds up against good, solid reasoning.”

  Here we go.

  He was hoping she’d listen to him once he let her blow off her steam. Maybe she’d understand if he explained. He was willing to give it a try. She was the most instinctual trainer he’d ever met and if anyone could understand what was driving him to risk this thing they had, it’d be her. He hoped.

  “I’m listening.” He turned toward her in his seat, giving her his full attention because she deserved it.

  Maybe she wasn’t used to it, because she hesitated. It took her a full minute to recover, visibly gather her thoughts and open her mouth to speak.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Forte was back. “Beckhorn has been trying to get ahold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone. We’ve got company waiting at the main gate and neither of you is going to be happy with what they’re here for.”