Assigned

by Paris Wynters

  “Anything you say.” My voice is gravelly, deep, and filled with a need so ferocious, I’m unsure if I’ll be able to control it.

  “Touch me and I’ll stop.” She licks a long, wet line up the left side of the shaft, encircles the head, then goes back down again.

  It isn’t going to be easy, but she has me, literally, by the balls. She takes me deep into her throat and I grow harder. My breaths quicken and become shallow, the muscles in my neck tense and tighten.

  “Fuck, Riley.” My fingers dig into the cushion as I try to find something solid to hold on to.

  When she goes back down to the base and teases my balls, lingering at the spot where they meet the shaft, I damn near lose my mind, but she isn’t done. Not by a long shot, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on.

  The moment she draws my balls back into her mouth, I slap the couch with all the force I can muster, sucking in a breath through my nose. That doesn’t help. Neither does gritting my teeth.

  She sucks me deeper. And deeper. Not letting up for a moment. And the more I groan and moan, the more my hips buck involuntarily, the more incessant she becomes.

  “Riley . . . can’t take much . . . more.”

  She holds the base with both hands and flicks her tongue along the underside, moving up to the tip and teasing the opening very gently. “Riley, now. I’m gonna come.”

  She doesn’t get off. Instead, she sucks me harder, keeping the head of my cock on her tongue. My arms fly backward and I grab the back of the couch as I arch and widen my legs, holding on for dear life.

  I suck in a hard breath and hold it as my orgasm rips through me. Every nerve ending in my body fires off, every muscle contracting. The intensity is so powerful my ears begin to ring.

  As my orgasm fades, Riley releases my still twitching dick from her mouth. And I finally exhale. She straddles me and places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I forgot how much I enjoyed getting you off.”

  That makes the both of us. But I don’t say that, mostly because I’m still trying to catch my breath.

  One thing is for certain . . . the more time passes, the more I realize Riley is the perfect match for me.

  I hope with all my heart she feels the same way because I’m not sure I can handle her leaving me again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Riley

  Marge’s backyard is incredible. The air is filled with the fragrance of lavender from the garden. She claims the flowers are a natural bug repellent, especially for mosquitoes. More impressive is the koi pond, a little oasis surrounded with rocks and ferns. Sunlight, filtered through the leaves of a sweet bay magnolia tree, sparkles before my eyes. Five beautiful orange-and-white fish glide through the water, swishing and swirling about each other as if going through the motions of some kind of ancient dance. They’re mesmerizing. I can’t imagine how Marge takes care of this all by herself most days. It can’t be easy.

  The air is warm and soft. May is nearly over, which means spring is coming to a close. Summer heat and humidity will soon fill the air, making the ocean a refuge for many. Not that I mind. I absolutely love the ocean. Just not the crowds.

  The shrieks of children capture my attention. Amongst them are Mason and Marge’s younger daughter Leslie, who happens to be the birthday girl. Jim and Bear are also in the mix. I chuckle at the sight of two grown Navy SEALs wrestling with a bunch of little kids, but the two men are in their glory. Maybe Jim isn’t such a bad guy after all. I’m beginning to see what Taya sees in him as he rolls around in the grass with children clinging to him.

  Speaking of SEALs . . . I stand and spin around, trying to see where my husband is. Oh, no. Guess I’m about to get firsthand experience with the chaos Lucas and Tony have a reputation for creating.

  “Mira, Riley.” Inara comes up from behind me. Her black hair is pulled up off her neck in a messy bun and a floral sundress swirls around her legs. “These two fools might ruin this party.”

  All I see are two grown men hiding behind the bouncy house until Inara tugs me close and points to Tony’s hands. Oh, hell. They’re going to egg Jim and Bear. Seriously? I look at Inara, not sure what will happen next. “How bad is this going to be?”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised if someone ended up with a broken nose. Maybe a black eye or two.” Inara pulls out her phone, taps on the screen, then puts the phone to her ear. “Taya, you better get out here. Tony and Lucas are about to stir shit up. You know how pissy Jim can get.”

  I can’t make out what Taya says, but Inara tucks the phone back into her pocket a few seconds after speaking. Of course, the moment we return our attention back to the possible future crime scene, my gaze falls on a white oval object sailing through the air.

  My mouth falls open when it hits Jim in the back of the head. Of course I didn’t see which dolt threw it, only that Lucas and Tony have tucked themselves farther behind the inflatable as they laugh and slap each other on the back.

  “What the fuck?” Jim spins around, searching for the culprit. Yellow goo oozes down the back of his head.

  “Watch your mouth,” Taya chides from the back door of Marge’s house.

  As soon as he focuses on his wife, another curse cuts through the air. This time from Bear. Yup. He got egged too. He reaches back and wipes at the mess on his neck, then shakes his hand to try to get the slop off.

  Tony and Lucas double over with laughter. “Uh, Inara, how many eggs do they have?” I ask.

  She groans. “I think I saw one of those eighteen-egg cartons.”

  That’s a lot of egg-shaped chaos to wreak. Maybe we should intervene before it gets out of hand. “Do we rat them out?”

  She gives me a look. “Do you want to die?”

  Nope. I shake my head and stand back to watch the scene unfold. Jim is beet red and I swear there’s steam coming out of his ears. Mason is rolling on the ground laughing as Leslie picks up remnants of sticky eggshells and throws them at her dad. Oh, wonderful. The kids think this is a great game.

  “Martinez! Craiger!” Bear barrels toward the bouncy house as my husband takes off running toward the back door.

  Holy crap. Lucas is fast. Faster than I remember. But so is Bear and I’m surprised by that, considering how big and burly the man is. Guess I shouldn’t make assumptions about people’s capabilities based on appearance.

  While Bear chases after my husband, Jim sets his sights on Tony. Inara huffs beside me. “This was supposed to be a kid’s party. I forgot Lucas and Anthony are the biggest children of them all.”

  I laugh. “What’s going to happen if you do have kids?”

  She huffs and points to her husband using her entire hand. “I already have one. Right there.”

  I tilt my head sideways, brows furrowed. “Never seen that gesture before.”

  Inara glances at her hand and snorts. “Tony does it all the time when he’s mad or very passionate. Think it’s called a knife hand. God help me. Wonder what other mannerisms I’ve adopted from Tony.”

  My attention returns to my husband. It’s fun seeing this side of him, watching as he interacts with the men on his team. The ones he fights alongside, that count as his brothers. His family.

  Part of me is jealous because I want that kind of camaraderie in my life. My illness has isolated me from friends. I thought I’d made peace with it, but maybe not. Then I watch Jim throw himself at Tony, tackling the other man to the ground. Okay, I don’t want that exact kind of camaraderie.

  “Jim Stephens, I swear to God if you throw one punch in front of the children, you will be sleeping in the backyard for the rest of your life.” Taya is not just pointing at her husband, but doing the knife-hand point Inara just did moments ago, eyes blazing. If I were Jim, I’d do what she says. She doesn’t look like she brooks any nonsense at all.

  “Sorry, sorry. Ouch!” Lucas’s voice emanates from inside the house and my eyes move from Taya to the door behind her.

  A couple of seconds later, Marge emerges, leading Lucas out the door.
I can’t help but laugh. She’s a petite woman, maybe five feet, and she’s dragging my six-foot-two husband around by the ear. He’s bent over at the waist, shuffling after her and begging for mercy.

  “Marge, I’m sorry,” Lucas protests. “Look, it was Tony’s idea.”

  Inara and I walk over to where all four men and Marge are gathered. Though my feet start dragging the closer I get, because the expression on Marge’s face is scary to say the least. Yet, surrounding the adults are laughing children who have their mouths covered as if they could hide their amusement.

  “You two are lucky I don’t beat you to death. Considering you kept your shenanigans outside and nothing broke in the house, I’ll let it slide.” Marge releases Lucas’s ear and pokes him and Tony in their chests as she speaks. “But the jokes stop now. You want to play games that lead to you dolts getting your butts kicked, do it on base. Not at my house. Capisce?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the two say in unison.

  Marge turns to Jim and Bear. “And you two, drop it. It’s over. I don’t want to hear another word about getting egged. Get over it.”

  Jim grunts while Bear huffs, neither man uttering a word.

  “Everyone go get cleaned up. It’s almost time to eat.” Marge turns and marches back inside.

  Inara and I follow to help her set up. Hayden, Marge and Bear’s oldest daughter who just got home from college, pulls some bowls from the refrigerator and hands them to us. We carry them to the tables set up outside. There’s a large bowl of tricolored pasta salad, complete with tomatoes and feta cheese. There is also a vegetable salad with diced tomatoes, cucumbers, and green bell peppers mixed in olive oil. Another bowl contains herb-roasted squash.

  Tony walks in to grab the potatoes and corn for Bear to cook on the barbeque. Peeking out the window, I spot Marge’s husband with Lucas standing next to him, all the animosity from the egging completely gone. Since everything is pretty much set up, I head outside and make my way over to him.

  The smell of barbeque ribs floods my nose. If only I could partake the way I want to. But that would mean dealing with the repercussions, including inflaming my GI tract. Not something I’m willing to do. The risk isn’t worth the reward. I’ve learned that the hard way.

  When I reach my husband, I wrap my arms around him. “Hey there, handsome. Glad to see you made it out of the egging fiasco in one piece.”

  He chuckles and Bear glares at him before turning to me. “Riley, how cooked do you want your salmon? Or do you want chicken burgers instead?”

  My brows furrow. “You guys eat chicken burgers? Thought this was a red meat and potatoes gang.”

  Lucas wraps his arm around my waist. “Called Bear yesterday to make sure there would be food you were able to eat.”

  What. The. Hell.

  My pulse thunders in my ears. Please, God, tell me I heard this man wrong. That he didn’t make some big deal about my condition to the hosts of a party we’re attending. My heart sinks as it all starts to make sense. Salmon. Chicken burgers. Those side dishes. I feel so exposed, like I’m standing naked in front of these people, and Lucas is the one who stripped me bare.

  I remove myself from his embrace and shake my head. I knew this would happen. I trusted him and he has wasted no time in betraying me. My nostrils flare. “Can I talk to you?” I try to keep my tone even, but I’m failing.

  Lucas eyes me suspiciously, then follows as I walk away from his teammate. When we are a safe distance away from other guests, I spin around and glare at my husband, eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Why would you say anything to them about what I can and can’t eat? Why would you tell them about my condition?”

  My husband takes a step back. “Because I wanted to make sure you could enjoy the party. I was trying to help.”

  “Without asking me? Without letting me know?” I close the distance between us and poke him in the chest the way Marge had, but with less good humor. He’s doing it. I should have known he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’s overstepping. Going too far. Not letting me handle my business the way I choose. “What you should have done was speak to me first before putting my information on blast to your friends. It’s a breach of my privacy. I decide when people get to know about my medical condition. Not you. There are reasons I don’t tell many people about it.”

  He goes to place a hand on my shoulder but I pull away. “Riley—”

  I hold up a hand. “No, shut it. I don’t want to hear an apology. What you did . . . do you understand how much I don’t want people treating me differently? Seeing me as the sick girl who has to get special treatment?”

  My gaze drops to the ground. He broke my trust. Ruined the dream I had of people seeing me as normal. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. It’s worse than that. Based on my husband’s actions, that’s how he sees me. As another person for him to take care of. Like I can’t do it myself. I can’t even pick and choose what I’m going to eat without help. Once again, I’m the sick girl.

  The one Goddamn thing I didn’t want in all of this.

  Without saying another word, I turn on my heel, say a quick goodbye to Marge, Hayden, Inara and Taya, grab my things, and head to the car. So much for enjoying the day. How quickly life changes.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lucas

  I stand on the driveway rubbing the base of my neck and watch as Riley drives away. I’m not getting it. I mean, sure, she’s pissed. Hella pissed, as a matter of fact. Even though she told me why, I still don’t understand. I was trying to help. I’ve seen how careful Riley is at home and restaurants with her meals and, after doing some research, I understood the minefield a barbeque might present for her. I also know how much she does not want to be fussed over. By doing a little advance work, I’d tried to remove those mines for her, help her navigate the barbeque and make it into a more successful mission for both of us.

  Instead, it blew up in my face. Got it wrong again, Craiger. As per usual. Can’t even learn from my mistake, either, since I don’t understand why what I did was so damn wrong. What was I supposed to do? Nothing? The least a man can do is make sure there’s a roof over his wife’s head and food in her belly, and I want to do way more than the least for Riley. Plus, a SEAL doesn’t keep information from his team. We live as a team and die as a team.

  I’m still standing there, looking at the empty road, when Graves pulls into the parking spot Riley pulled out of.

  “What’s up, Lucas?” he asks as he gets out of his Ford Explorer with a bottle of wine and flowers in his hands. He looks where I’m looking, trying to figure out what I’m staring at, which is a whole lot of empty road.

  I shrug and gesture with my head toward the backyard. “Team’s back there.”

  Graves gives his shirt a little tug and nods. “On your six.”

  I walk into the backyard in front of him.

  Everyone is gathered around the table and the grill. Marge throws me some side-eye and looks over at Taya, who angles herself so her back is to me. Hayden looks up from putting silverware out on the table and shakes her head, her hair a pink-and-purple waterfall. Inara crosses her arms over her chest, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “idiota.”

  How am I an idiot? I made a point of educating myself and my team.

  Bear, Stephens and Martinez all watch me. I walk back over to them while Graves walks over to the table and hands the bottle of wine to Marge and the bouquet to Hayden.

  “Thank you,” Marge says. “How sweet.”

  “My stepparents said I shouldn’t ever come to a party with my hands swinging free.”

  “Well, it wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it.” Marge pauses and looks over at Hayden, who hasn’t said anything, but has her nose buried in the bouquet. “Hayden, why don’t you put those in some water?”

  “I’ll help,” Graves says, following Hayden into the house.

  Bear follows them with his eyes, looking none too happy.

  “Guess I screwed up
again,” I say, partially to redirect an impending murder plot my teammate might be forming against Graves. Obviously, Hayden has been on dates. Overheard Marge and Lisa discussing one of them once. Being deployed so much, maybe Bear has never witnessed it. Not sure a member of our team dating his daughter would be appropriate. Not that Graves is a bad guy or anything.

  “What’d you do this time?” Martinez asks, scratching his chest.

  “Told Marge and Bear about the kind of diet Riley has to be on so she’d have food she could eat at the party.” I kick at the concrete patio. It’s hard enough for her to manage what to eat and when to eat it on a daily basis. Social events are harder and might not have any food she could consider eating.

  Stephens cocks his head to one side. “Without telling her you were going to do that?”

  I nod, still not seeing where the problem is.

  Stephens loops an arm over my shoulders and says, “Let’s go have a talk.”

  We walk away from the grill and sit down near the koi pond, away from everyone else. The fish dart in and out, surfacing now and then to grab some unlucky bug on the surface.

  “Do you remember that day at Shaken and Stirred? Back in the early days when Taya and I were first paired up?” he asks, picking up a pebble and tossing it into the pond.

  I watch the ripples radiate away in circles. I know exactly what day he’s talking about. “Hard to forget that day.”

  It had been Martinez’s birthday and Marge had put together a little gathering. We were getting settled when Stephens’s ex-wife’s sister Brittney showed up and started talking shit about how Stephens’s brains had been turned to scrambled eggs. Before that, none of us had known that he had suffered a traumatic brain injury on our last mission. Well, Bear knew. Nobody else, though.

  While it had been at least a little bit entertaining to see Taya and Marge have to be physically restrained from kicking Brittney’s worthless ass up one side of Shaken and Stirred and down the other, it hadn’t been much fun finding out that my teammate hadn’t trusted me with crucial information.