Target: A Military Romance (Unwanted Soldiers Book 1)

by Aden Lowe

  "Wash my back?" She presented him with her back and pulled her hair to the side, revealing his mark on the side of her neck.

  Adding gel to the washcloth, Kellen stepped aside to let the water hit her and lathered the cloth up. He started at her neck and slowly worked his way down over her shoulders, careful to give equal attention to each inch of that lovely skin.

  Impatience made her wriggle a little and push back toward him. "Remember we're saving the hot water for someone else?"

  He growled a little. "They can fucking wait." Suds ran down her back and created a trail he wanted to follow. By the time he reached the small of her back, desperation forced him to go faster. He lathered both lovely ass cheeks then dropped the washcloth in favor of using his hands. Her sleek warm skin called to his erection, forcing an instinctive thrust to gain contact.

  Her moan drove him on and he pulled her back as she shifted to allow him to slip between her thighs. She groaned. "Baby, I can't wait." She turned in his arms and when he lifted her, she brought her legs around his waist. Her heat on his hard-on ensured she wouldn't have to wait another moment. Annoyed by the necessity, he fumbled above the side of the shower for the pack of condoms stashed there. An eternity later, he snagged one, ripped the pack open.

  Vicki took it from him and slipped her feet down to stand and shoved him back a step to give herself some space before she dropped to her knees. With those golden eyes all wide, she stared up and him and deliberately slid her lips over the head of him.

  His balls tightened almost painfully before she drew back and replaced her lips with the condom. She rolled the condom on, then raked her nails over his balls, shocking a moan from him.

  Standing, she reached up for a kiss, teasing relentlessly with her tongue until he lifted her so she could bring her legs around him again. The water beat down on them as he let her shoulders lean against the shower wall and buried himself in her. Her inner muscles quivered to draw him deeper as she sighed.

  Thump-thump-thump. Someone pounded on the bathroom door. "Hey, hurry it up in there."

  Kellen growled. "Get the fuck away!" He drove into her again, ignoring whatever response came from the idiot at the door. The only thing that mattered was right there in his arms. He lost himself as her nails sank into his shoulders.

  Standing there, struggling to catch his breath, still supporting her as aftershocks wracked her body, he marveled at how things worked between them.

  She laughed a little. "I guess we should hand over the shower now, huh?"

  "Bad as I hate to, yeah, we probably should. Besides. I want you back in my bed." He let her feet slide down and shut the water off.

  Dried off and dressed, at least enough to cover the important bits, they started back to his room. Kellen would have greatly preferred to get her back in his bed and just spend the day there, but they both had business to handle. And he had to see if the mob guys had made any moves.

  Watching Vicki cover up that delicious body turned into sheer torture. "Clothes need to be illegal for you."

  Startled, she glanced up. "Why?"

  "Because then I could keep you hidden away and look all I want." He reached for her and she came into his arms, warm and willing.

  "Then that would mean I'd get to keep you naked and hidden and force you to do whatever I want." She pulled him down for a kiss, just enough to get him going good, then slipped away to finish dressing. "But we'll have to do that later."

  "You're killing me here, little girl." He dragged his shirt on over his head. He took a mental count of how many times he'd had her. Not nearly enough. For a guy who liked to spread it around, he seemed to have a minor addiction to this one woman. He shrugged into his cut, as ready to face the day as he could get at the moment. He had a feeling it was going to be a long one. He opened the door with a sigh and put his arm loosely around Vicki's waist.

  In the kitchen, Tanya was already on top of things and had breakfast ready and waiting. Suddenly famished, Kellen filled his plate and took a seat at the kitchen table. Vicki sat beside him with just a cup of coffee and a slice of toast.

  "That isn't all you're eating?"

  Vicki looked at him, then back to her toast. "Yes, is that a problem?"

  He swallowed. "Not really, I guess. Just don't see how it'll be enough to keep you going."

  "I'll be fine. I usually don't eat breakfast at all, only special occasions." She smiled a little and leaned close. "I seem to need more fuel this morning."

  Kellen laughed. "I don't know why that would be."

  "Hmmm. I wouldn't either." She started to say something else, but Trip came over and dropped into the chair opposite Kellen.

  Kellen nodded by way of greeting and returned his attention to his food.

  "Anything new going, boss?"

  "Not that I've heard yet. You got anything?" Kellen waited for whatever Trip wanted to say.

  Must not be great news, the way the new VP hesitated. "I got a call a couple hours ago. Hack has been on a real tear. And he's DTing now, so chances are, he'll be here before too long."

  Kellen's pulse sped up a little. "And no doubt he'll be mean as a stripe-ed snake."

  "I'd say that's an understatement."

  "Well, I guess I have it to do." Kellen sighed. He'd rather do just about anything than rip a patch off the front of a brother's cut. But the Raiders had spoken and as the president, it was his job.

  "I'm here to back your play, just holler." Trip stood with a nod to Vicki, and headed off to do something else.

  Kellen waited, almost holding his breath. Vicki would ask questions, no doubt. Any hint of drama or trouble never failed to cause curiosity. Except she just took another sip of her coffee. Then he remembered. She had her own business where questions were a no-no. She knew not to ask. Other than the other guys' ol' ladies, he couldn't remember encountering a woman who didn't have a million questions. It was refreshing.

  The rest of breakfast passed in relative quiet as others wandered in and devoured their food and left. Finally his plate was empty and Kellen had no further excuse to keep sitting there.

  Vicki finished her second cup of coffee. "I need to check in with everyone, make sure they'll all good." She pushed back from the table, and Kellen followed suit.

  "Yeah, me too. Lot to take care of today." He grabbed her hand as she stood and pulled her into his lap. A deep kiss later, he let his mouth hover near her ear. "Think about last night, and more about tonight. I have a lot of plans to carry out." Promises made, he released her and stood.

  "That's not fair." She reached around and smacked him on the ass.

  He jumped a little, startled, then grinned as she walked away. Gave him a reason to get through the day without killing anybody. The half-dozen guys in the living room quieted, and one of them laughed a little, as he headed through.

  Something about their expressions made him wary. "What's so funny?"

  "Nothing, boss." The guilty expressions were as good as a confession.

  Kellen halted. "You sure?"

  As low man on the totem-pole, the task of answering fell to Quick. "No big deal, boss. We just noticed you seemed in a good mood this morning."

  "And you thought that was funny?" He knew exactly where their dirty minds had gone, had no intention of going easy on them.

  "Well, no, just…different. You're usually ready to kill first thing in the morning."

  True. "And you thought what, exactly?"

  Stella stepped in to save the kid. "Oh, come off it, Kellen. You know exactly what we thought. The boss must have got his ashes hauled real good last night to be in that good a mood this morning. And we know exactly who to thank for that."

  Kellen frowned. "For your information, I am in a good mood. So you're lucky I'm not kicking your ass right now." He turned to stomp away and hide his amusement at their amazed expressions. A little fear would do the bastards some good.

  Out on the porch, Badger sat in his favorite chair, sipping coffee. "Morning, Kellen. Anyt
hing special on for today?"

  Kellen leaned against the porch rail. "We need to zip everything up tight here, and still keep an eye in town. And we have to get shit together to run those bastards back where they came from. Got any ideas?"

  Badger grinned. "Of course I do. You got a minute?"

  "I do."

  "Okay, so you remember the traps I set around the inside of the fences?" Badger went on to detail an elaborate plan to draw the enemy into a series of painful learning experiences he'd prepared on the off chance they might be useful.

  Kellen considered carefully. He, and most of the other Raiders, had grown up hunting and using whatever resources presented themselves. He had no doubt they could defeat the Russians in the woods. That was the easy part. But those guys wouldn't fight clean, they would pull in civilians.

  Badger had a suggestion for that eventuality, too. One that seemed like it would work.

  More thought. "Okay. Go ahead with it. Stress how important this is, and how bad these guys are."

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the midst of putting up storm shutters to protect the occupants of the clubhouse from gunfire in case the Russians came knocking at the door, Kellen paused. A bike roared up the lane, coming in too fast, and skidded to a halt out front.

  The last screw went in nice and easy, and Kellen slid down the ladder rails and headed around to meet the rider. Dixon, the prospect, stood by the porch talking urgently with Badger. The pair noticed Kellen's approach and Badger signaled Dix to wait a moment.

  "What's up, Dix?" Kellen almost dreaded the news. The upcoming fight was of no concern to him personally. He would be fine. He always was. But the responsibility for the Raiders taking part, and for the go-ahead on the crazy plan, weighed hard on his shoulders.

  Dix brushed a hand over his close-cropped hair, ruffling it slightly. "More of those mob guys in town this morning. So far they're not doing much, just looking around, going into all the shops, walking the streets. People are getting nervous, wondering where the Raiders are."

  Kellen nodded. He'd expected as much. "It'll be handled." Hell Raiders took care of any kind of trouble that came to Stags Leap, and the citizens were acutely aware of the sort of dangers that came with those men. He went on to give Dix a scant overview of the plan. Kid didn't need details beyond his own part in it all.

  Dix nodded and asked for a couple of clarifications, then shrugged. "Whatever you need me to do, boss."

  Kellen clapped him on the arm. "Thanks, man, knew I could count on you." And he had known it. Dix was solid. "Now, how's little Georgie doing?"

  A red flush spread over Dix's cheekbones. "Uh, she's doing good."

  "Didn't kick your ass this time?" The chuckle at that thought refused to stay contained.

  "We might have come to a sort of understanding."

  "Meaning you spent the night in her bed."

  Dix's face flushed deeper and he shuffled his feet, looking as if he'd rather run ten miles than answer that remark.

  Badger laughed aloud and rose from his favorite chair. "Dix, m'man, I think you got a long day ahead of you. I feel for you boy." The big man stomped away, headed toward the barn.

  Kellen grinned at Dix. "So you made up for insulting her, huh?"

  "Uh, I guess so."

  Time to have a little mercy on the kid, especially considering how he'd spent his own night. "Okay, tell me more about these Russians. What are they doing?"

  "So far, really not much, just making people nervous. Asking questions, looking things over closely. Everybody would be not so happy with how they're acting, even if those others hadn't torn up Zipporah's shop. Just odd enough to raise the hair on the back of your neck."

  Kellen nodded, fully familiar with the feeling Dix described. "You going to hang out here or head back in right away?"

  "I was hoping to just grab a change of clothes and some heat, and head back in. Georgie's got plenty of her own firepower, but she won't share. And with Rita away, she's down a person anyway. If they come into the Rattlesnake to cause trouble, she can use a little more backup."

  "Alright, go ahead. Just keep me posted." He turned to get back to the storm shutters. "Oh, hey, Dix? Do me a favor and don't chance the ride alone again until they're gone. I have a feeling Raiders patches are getting ready to become bulls-eyes. Just call or text. We can dump the phones later if need be."

  "Okay, boss, will do." Without waiting for more, Dix bolted up onto the porch, heavy boots thumping hard on the wood planks.

  The sound reminded Kellen of long summer afternoons spent under his grandparents' front porch, watching everything that came and went. Might not hurt to have at least a couple of weapons down under the clubhouse porch, just in case he needed to put someone down there. It would be a great place to blow off enemy kneecaps.

  Decision made, he headed back to the shutters and finished up the last ones. That job seemed larger every time he had to do it. At least this time there was no wind trying to knock his ass off the ladder. Satisfied with his progress, he headed for the barn and the weapons storage. Setting up a little lookout post under the porch would only take a few minutes, then he could get back to the rest of it.

  He slung the weapons he'd selected to go under the porch over his shoulder in the little waterproof bag and headed back to stash them. The throaty roar of another bike headed up the lane, and he paused to see who else was in a tizzy over the Russians.

  Hack. And from the looks of his face as he stopped his bike, he likely didn't give a damn about Russians. The bastard looked ready to explode.

  Kellen stopped to wait. Might as well get the shit over with. It had been a long time coming. "Hey, Hack, how's it going, man?"

  Hack came toward him, face red with fury. "How the hell you think it's going, you bastard? What, you didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face you wanted your buddy for VP instead of me? You had to leave a fucking note?"

  "Whoa-back there, brother. You better check yourself. And that didn't come from me. The Raiders spoke. If you hadn't refused to come in when you were summoned for something important, you would likely still be VP. But you ignored that. Not only ignored, but sent word to leave you alone. Sure as fuck seemed like you wanted nothing to do with VP anymore."

  "Bullshit." Hack's rough voice was even worse than usual. "I had to take care of some other shit, and you damn well know it. You always wanted me out. You just took advantage of me being gone to do it."

  Kellen had heard enough. "Yeah I wanted you out of the VP chair. You know why? Because you were so busy getting fucked up and getting your next pill, you couldn't be bothered with Club business. What all was I supposed to risk while you chased pills?"

  Hack went pale as Kellen's words hit the mark. Then he struck back. "That's really low, Kellen. I always knew you'd kick a brother when he was down, but I never thought you'd turn on your own right hand." Turning on a brother in need was about as low as a man could get.

  Kellen sighed. "You know why I called emergency church? No, of course you don't, because you said don't fucking bother you. If you don't want to be bothered with club business, don't be shocked when the club finds someone who does. Do you have the first clue where club money is? Or how to manage it so it grows? No, you do not. You refused to have anything to do with it. That's fine, as long as there's someone to take care of it. But if I go down, the way it stands, so does the club. If I kicked you while you were down, you tried to take down the whole club."

  "Is that what you told the others to get them to vote me out?"

  "You don't get it, man. I didn't have to tell them anything. They can see shit that's plain as day. And they know we're not back in the day when a club could run a few guns and sell a little pussy and sling a few drugs and get rich. It don't work that way no more. Running a club is a business and if you don't take care of business, you're not taking care of your brothers. And that's what you refused to do." There was so much more he'd like to say, especially about Hack's addiction, but he didn
't need to bring that into it. It came down to the best thing for the club. Every damn time. And that's where Hack had failed miserably.

  Hack stared at him a moment, features haggard and eyes bleary. "Fuck this shit, man. I'm out." The man looked incredibly tired and sad as he ripped the VP patch off his cut with one sharp pull. "Fuck you." He swung back on his bike.

  Before Kellen thought to say anything else, Hack was gone, blasting down the lane like the devil himself rode behind him. At least he still wore his Raiders cut, was still a brother. That would have been a massive blow, one the club might not have recovered from. They just had to hope he kept himself alive until he could get his shit together and get back to his brothers.

  Kellen stood watching long after the dust settled from Hack's departure. Finally, he scrubbed one hand over his face. Damn, he wished he could wipe away the tiredness that easily. Handling shit like this fucking exhausted him.

  "That fucking blows, man. I heard." Trip stood beside him, scowling. "I'm sorry it turned out that way."

  Kellen sighed. "Well, I didn't expect a tea party. Maybe he'll get shit straight and come back, who knows." He forced himself to turn away from where his brother had disappeared into the distance. "We got other fish to fry right now. Might as well get at it."

  Lunch time came and went. Kellen felt slightly nauseous, probably because of the bullshit with Hack, and passed on eating. He had too much to do. Besides, being around other people was probably not such a great idea at the moment. He might give in to the urge to take someone's head off and spit down their neck.

  Just when he figured his mood could get no worse without a nuclear bomb going off in his head, Trip came out to the barn and tracked him down. Great.

  "Got some news, boss."

  Rather than reply, Kellen nodded for him to continue. Better to just get it over fast. Rip the bandaid off.

  "Got a phone call from Comfort."

  Now that was something. "I never heard of her using a phone before." The gorgeous woman who dressed in ragged men's clothing and worked hard on her adopted mother's farm had some strong, but peculiar, beliefs. Phones and electricity caused cancer. Food you didn't grow or kill yourself could not nourish your body.