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It Takes Special Forces [Love on the Rocks 9] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

Page 7

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

“Cobra, I said I wasn’t ready for anything.”

  “I think we’re past that. Tell me about Mr. Asshole, so you can move on with Slayer, me, and my brothers.”

  She stared at him, his hold still firm. Her breasts pushed forward, and he could see the deep cleavage and a hint of her blue lace bra that matched the blouse.

  “It isn’t that easy. The only reason why I came here tonight was to maybe accept friendship, nothing more.”

  “You want to be just friends?”

  “For now, for however long. I need slow.”

  “Honey, that will be torture unless you’re talking friends with benefits,” he teased, stroking her ass cheek as he nuzzled against her neck and suckled. She slapped his shoulder and pulled back laughing, her face bright red.

  “Cobra, you are intolerable.”

  “You love it, though.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “I can tell you are.”

  “How?”

  “You look to the right when you lie, or you’re hiding the truth.”

  “Hmm, a military thing?”

  “A man with experience thing,” he said and pulled her against him closer, then kissed her again. This time she let his lips linger a moment before turning away. He was making progress. Thank God.

  * * * *

  “So, you decided to cut the Stames brothers and their cousin a little slack?” Precious asked Essie and Essie took a sip from her club soda. She held her gaze and then exhaled.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  Precious touched her hand and gave it a squeeze. “If they’re being too aggressive for you, tell them to give you space. Be honest with them. Maybe tell them about what happened to you and the danger you could still be in,” Precious said to her.

  “No. No way could I do that. That’s a terrible idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Oh, let me see, hi guys, I like all five of you, I have no experience with men whatsoever, but the one guy I met at a club and only spoke to jumped me one night, beat the hell out of me where I wound up hospitalized for several weeks, and continued to stalk me. He invaded my privacy. Saw me naked, watched me shower, dress, undress, and even sleep, so I have issues with anxiety and freak out all the time when I’m alone. Oh, and I had to leave my home, my awesome job in New York, and hide out here in South Carolina, but that’s not too much baggage, is it?” she said sarcastically and in a low tone.

  “Okay, point taken, but maybe if you broke it down a little,” she suggested.

  “No. It’s just better if I stay out of any kind of complicated relationship, hell, any relationship.”

  “Honey, it’s too late for that. They have you on their radar. Heck, they’re watching you right now.”

  Essie looked to the right to where she knew the Stames men and Slayer spoke with Precious’s men. She locked gazes with Turbo and then turned away.

  “I think I need to head home.”

  “It’s Friday night, and you don’t have work tomorrow.”

  “No, but tomorrow I wanted to do some cooking and jarring with Helen, and then Sunday I was thinking about going for a run, then hitting the beach to lay out. It’s supposed to be the perfect day for that.”

  “The perfect day for what?” Turbo asked, joining them. He stood right next to Essie, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His dark hair, matching scruff along his face, matched his dark eyes and thick eyelashes. He stared at her, and Precious spoke. “Just discussing weekend plans. So, you guys all live together near the beach, right?” Precious asked.

  “On the back road and bend to Cliff Side Place,” Turbo told her.

  “Nice, I think Cavanaugh drove me up that way a while back. There’s only one house up a side sand road. It’s all private up there but looks like a hideaway. Really cool.”

  “That’s our place,” he told her, and Precious looked impressed as her eyes widened and then she smiled.

  “Very nice. I bet there are great views from up there.”

  “Some of the best. Your boyfriends’ house is awesome, too, though. Been there several times.”

  “It’s very nice, and they keep it immaculate.”

  Cavanaugh called Precious’s name, and she excused herself to walk over toward him. Essie took another sip of the seltzer and then watched some people dancing on the dance floor. They looked a little drunk. She felt Turbo step closer and place his arm around her waist. He leaned on the stool and pulled her between his legs, keeping his hands on her waist. In this position, she was almost eye level with him.

  “What are your weekend plans?” Turbo asked her. She should lie. Make something up.

  She couldn’t. She wasn’t a liar. “Helping Helen do some jarring with the vegetables from her garden, then Sunday a jog in the morning, and then I’m thinking about laying out on the beach for a few hours. Work on my tan,” she said, looking at her arm. All these thoughts and emotions were bringing on an episode. She felt the signs. Why now? She really needed to head outside. He squeezed her hips and pulled her closer. She had to place her hands on his wide, hard shoulders as to not fall against him.

  “I know a great spot, and it’s private, too,” he said, and she felt his hand ease along her ass then up her back. Did he mean their house on their private beach?

  She looked down, and he moved a hand off her waist, she felt the loss, but then felt him clench her chin and tilt it toward him.

  “It’s really nice, and lunch is included, too,” he said to her, stroking her jaw with his thumb. His hands were so big. The thought brought on mixed feelings—arousal, fear. He could do damage to her body.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked, obviously catching her expression of fear. She nodded. Turbo had such a seasoned look to him. He was tan, too, and there was something about his eyes that kept her engaged. She had to refocus on the conversation and keep her distance. She shouldn’t let down her guard. God, she was so inexperienced it annoyed her. She was super sensitive and aware of everything when one of these men were this close and touching her. The size of his hands, his muscles, and how much smaller of a frame she had in comparison. Seriously, the man could snag her around the waist with one hand and keep her against his side like some trophy. She imagined Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, and how much larger he was to Belle, and how he could snag her up like nothing. The only difference was that Essie wasn’t turned off by these men, but completely turned on and attracted to them. She was going to have a panic attack tonight. She just knew it.

  “What is going through that head of yours right now, baby? You look petrified,” he whispered, and he caressed along her lower back and ass.

  “I think the public beach a few blocks from the apartment will do fine.” She was surprised she remembered what they were discussing. He squinted at her and then gave a soft smile.

  “I think you’d like our beach. Will you think about it?”

  She shook her head. He seemed disappointed but surprisingly, he didn’t push. She needed to put some space between them. Her heart was racing and her breathing funny. She knew the sensations well.

  “I want to sit,” she said as she pulled back, and he stood, pulled over a barstool, and watched her get up on it and cross her legs. She reached for her club soda with lemon and then looked around them. It was a nice gathering. Carlyle’s was always so crowded. As she scanned the crowd, she spotted Slayer. He sat on a barstool in the corner just watching her. Their gazes locked and, Jesus, her nipples hardened and her pussy throbbed. She had to look away and recross her legs. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and Turbo faced her.

  “Do you work full time?” he asked her, and she nodded her head.

  “How do you like the job?”

  “It’s okay. It pays the bills.”

  “Slayer mentioned that you did something else before when you lived up north. Where d
id you say you were from?” he asked. She realized that they talked about her, shared their conversations. Did it make her feel uneasy more than excited? She didn’t think so.

  “I didn’t say. Just up north.”

  “Canada?” he pushed.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. Would it matter if she said New York?

  He squinted at her.

  “New York,” she said and released a sigh. She couldn’t believe how much better she felt revealing that to him. She came to this town, this state, out of fear and to hide from her stalker. It changed her in so many ways and had an effect on her personality, her responses, and reactions to people. The Stames brothers and Slayer caused stronger changes, reactions, and emotions in her. Could she tell them the truth as Precious suggested, or would they think she was a scaredy cat, an immature twenty-four-year-old pushover? Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t hide it.

  Turbo covered her hand that sat on her lap. She locked gazes with him as she stared up into his dark brown eyes.

  “God, baby, I don’t know why you’re so scared, so shy, and unwilling to even have a simple conversation with any of us, but I can tell something is wrong. I want to know what it is. I want to know what you’re so afraid of,” he pushed.

  Her eyes darted around them. They landed on Slayer, and he squinted at her and instantly slid off the barstool. She looked away and stood up. Turbo placed his hand on her hip. “Don’t run away from me. Talk to me.”

  Slayer was there, and he looked so intense. God, the man always looked ready to kill. She shivered, felt her throat begin to constrict. She tried focusing on the music, the laughter. She ran her hand over her throat, closed her eyes, and focused on calming her breathing.

  “Essie, are you okay?” Slayer asked, and his hand caressed her back, soothing the tightness. She nodded and just focused on breathing and on the feel of Slayer’s hand caressing up and down her back and Turbo’s hold on her hip.

  “What’s wrong?” Ford said, and she opened her eyes. Ford, Cobra, and Max all stood there.

  “I need to leave,” she got out and reached for her bag. She pulled from them and hurried through the crowd. She needed the fresh air, to get to her car and the paper bag she had in there. As she got to her car door, unlocked it, and stretched into the seat to grab the bag, she heard Slayer’s voice.

  “Essie, don’t try to drive,” he said to her, but she didn’t respond. She scrunched up the bag and breathed into it. She inhaled, felt their presence surrounding her, and was so embarrassed. Tears hit her eyes, and her nose began to clog up. She begged herself to calm down when she felt the hand on her hip and the palm gently rubbing up and down her back. At first, she tightened up, but then she sensed the warm breath against her ear.

  “Focus on taking small, easy breaths. You’re safe here. I’ve got you. We all do, and no one can hurt you,” Slayer said to her. She closed her eyes and did as he said. It was as if he knew she was having a panic attack and knew what to say, what to do. She kept her palm on the leather seat. She was bent over, and he was pressed against her enough to make her feel aroused and imagine being intimate with him, with all of them. She had to force those thoughts away, too and just breathe. When she finally felt like she was breathing normally, she removed the bag from her mouth and stood up straight. She ran her hand up her throat to her face as Slayer hugged her from behind. He kissed her neck.

  “Better?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t,” he replied.

  She was afraid to turn around to look at him, at all of them. She was embarrassed. She blinked her eyes and turned to see them all standing there looking worried, and then they all smiled softly.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Cobra asked. Tall, blonde hair, dark blue eyes and all muscles, the man looked like the Russian from the Rocky movies. She nodded.

  “Want to go back inside?” Max asked. She shook her head and absorbed his good looks. He was all soldier from his nearly bald, short military cut, to his firm expression and perfect posture. He was tan too and filled with muscles, and she’d heard him talking to Magnum about a tattoo he had gotten a few years back. She wondered what it was and where.

  Ford stepped closer. Despite the dark beard, brown eyes, and rugged woodsman look, he seemed the most compassionate and calm of the bunch of them. She felt comfortable with him.

  “I want to go home, guys. I need to go. It’s better if I leave now.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Slayer said.

  She shook her head.

  “Alone, Slayer. I can drive fine, really. It passed.”

  “You get these often?” he asked her as he reached up and stroked her cheek.

  “Don’t, Slayer. I’m embarrassed enough.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. Anxiety attacks are scary and just come on and are triggered by lots of different things,” Ford said to her and she cringed. God, he was probably thinking crazy things right now.

  “Are you seeing a doctor about them?” Cobra asked. Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t tell anyone about them. Why would she, when even the detectives, the police back home couldn’t find any evidence to prove that it had been Blade that attacked her that night, and that was stalking her, and who had broken into her car and her apartment? If she went to a doctor and they diagnosed her with anxiety attacks, the cops would think she was crazy and made things up about Blade. He was a man, a soldier, resourceful and looking for her still. She shivered.

  “Essie?” Cobra said her name more firmly.

  “I’m dealing with it, Cobra. It’s none of your business,” she snapped at him and felt bad. Then she looked at Slayer. “Thanks, and good night. Enjoy your welcome home party,” she said and went to get into the car, but Slayer pulled her into his arms. He hugged her tight, and she tried not to hug him back, but he smelled so good and felt even better. She squeezed him and felt instantly emotional.

  “You’re not alone. I’m here for you, and I understand how it feels,” he whispered to her. She kissed his neck and whispered, her voice cracking, “Thank you.”

  He didn’t let her go. He kissed her cheek and then her lips. She held on to him, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she gave in. She wanted to forget how stupid she must have looked and how embarrassed she felt, and instead feel Slayer’s arms around her and him kissing her. He pulled her away from the car, ran his hand over her ass, and squeezed her to him. She couldn’t believe how hard, how big his muscles felt against her body and her hands. She ran her fingers through the hair on the top of his head. The sides and back were cut super short, but it was longer on top. He ravished her mouth, cupped her breast and her ass at the same time, and she felt her pussy spasm. She moaned into his mouth, and she knew she needed to slow things down. He must have sensed her need to do that because he began to release her lips, and when they parted, she hugged him, pressed her cheek against his chest, and locked gazes with the others. Ford reached out, and she took his hand, brought it to her lips, and kissed his knuckles.

  “I need time, guys. I’m not used to these feelings. I don’t have any experience with men and definitely not ones like the five of you,” she said, and Slayer eased back. She stood there still holding Ford’s hand, and Slayer’s hand was on her hip. He reached up and fixed her lipstick.

  “We’re willing to take our time. There’s no rush, and when you’re ready to talk, to let us in, we’ll be here,” Ford told her.

  She was touched by his words.

  “We’re not going anywhere, Essie,” Turbo said to her with his arms crossed in front of his thick, wide chest.

  “Definitely not going anywhere,” Max added.

  “We’ll work this out, Essie. All you need to do is let down the walls and let us in. It’s that simple,” Cobra told her.

  She nodded and then looked at Slayer. She saw her lipstick by the corner of his lips. She reached up and wiped it away.

  “Good night,” she said, and he nodded. She
got into the car, and he closed the door. They watched her pull out of the parking spot. One glance in the rearview mirror and she wished she had the courage, the faith in her gut instincts to let them in. To pour out her soul, explain about Blade and the terror she’d experienced, and to accept them into her life. But was it fair to them? Was it asking for trouble to be placed onto them, not if, but when Blade tracked her down? She was surprised by her thought pattern. When had she become protective of Slayer, Ford, Cobra, Max, and Turbo? She may not be able to resist getting involved with them after all.

  * * * *

  “What do you think?” Cobra asked his brothers and Slayer as they gathered around a table in the back corner of the bar.

  “She definitely went through something traumatic. The panic attack was triggered by something,” Ford stated.

  “By us. We were too aggressive?” Turbo added.

  “She reciprocated the kisses, Turbo, and she accepted each of us holding her in our arms, keeping hands on her all night. Something happened to her that is making her hold back and deny the attraction. It could be anything,” Cobra said to them.

  “I don’t like the possibilities going through my head. She goes to the dojo and takes the kickboxing class, but she refuses to take the self-defense class,” Ford told them.

  “So, you’re thinking she’s trying to learn some defense skills but not engage in something more intense, like maybe just to build self-confidence?” Max asked Ford.

  They were going round and round, talking things through, truly concerned over Essie. Cobra knew that they all wanted her and that this was different from anything they’d experienced before. They were older and had a lot of experience in life, with sex and trauma, and they could help her if they only knew what the cause of her anxiety was.

  “What is the number one concern women have taking the self-defense training class you guys offer?” Slayer spoke up. He had been the quietest, and in the moment of confusion of what to do to help Essie during the anxiety attack, he got right in there and helped her through it. That in itself showed Cobra how special Essie was for touching Slayer and getting inside of his heart.

 

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