Leaning down to speak into my ear, he forced me to tuck my head into his neck as he whispered, “I understand . . . probably better than you realize. I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed we can’t go further, but I get it. If you want to talk when we don’t have to worry about bugs, we can. But whatever was in your head just then needed to be shaken out. I hope you don’t hold my method against me.” I felt his mouth pull up in a grin. “After all, I can only use the tools I have available.”
My laughter against his neck made him groan and pull me tighter against him. The impressive evidence of his arousal was back in full force—so to speak. “One day I might tell you. But not today. Did—Do you think they heard me crying?” I gritted my teeth in frustration, hating that I had been so weak.
“No. You . . . you were completely silent. I came out, and you were just sitting here, tears running down your face, and you were pulling on your hair. I couldn’t help myself—the Dom in me won’t stand for a woman in my care being so sad and hurt.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t resist cuddling closer to his side. “Is that what I am? A woman in your care?” This conversation was fast becoming as dangerous as the kiss had been. I honestly had no interest in Carter beyond the obvious physical attraction. It would take much more than my lady parts wanting a man to get me to compromise my professional integrity by sleeping with a teammate.
“Yes. I love women . . . always have. I like taking care of them and making them smile. From now on, I’m going to consider it my personal mission to get as many smiles from you as possible. If you’re like me, and I know you are, you haven’t had much reason to. I’m going to help change that.”
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed. “Right. Anyway. Shouldn’t we be fucking like bunnies right about now?”
His laughter brightened his whole face, his blue eyes sparkling with delight. We were on a mission, a potentially deadly one at that, and here we were lying in bed, laughing like lovers.
Not letting me go, he raised his voice again. “Oh yeah, baby. Just like that. Play with those gorgeous tits. Damn, I fucking missed you.” He moaned dramatically, bouncing slightly so the bed would squeak. How his towel was staying on, I had no idea.
“Oh God, I love how you fuck me. Harder. Fuck me harder.” I screamed and groaned in fake pleasure. This was way more fun than I’d thought it would be. I yelped in shock and surprise when Carter smacked my ass, fire spreading outward from his palm. He just arched a brow, waiting for my response. I felt a truly devious smile curve my lips upward. “Oh, yes, Sir. Please spank me. Do you want me to count?”
His face flushed red, and he groaned for real, knowing I was only playing along. But then his eyes lit up. “Oh, pet, what you do to me. We don’t have much time. Count to ten, that first one was just a warm-up.”
What? I hadn’t expected him to take advantage of that. I guess I deserved it for poking the bear. Or rather, the Dom. His palm landed again, not as hard, but he cupped his hand so the sound was the same. When I didn’t respond, he lightly pinched my ass, and I remembered I was supposed to count. “One. Thank you, Sir.”
His jaw was clenched tightly, the cords in his neck standing out in what I assumed was the effort to not do this for real. I had a moment of doubt, was screwing with a Dom such a good idea? I didn’t know much about the lifestyle he was in, but every man had their breaking point, right? Where was his? Over and over, he fake-spanked me until I shouted ten. Carter was sweating, his restraint evident in his expression, and I was holding back my laughter by a thread.
I grinned widely and decided to pull out the stops. Moaning and screaming my pleasure. “Oh, yes! Can I cum, Sir? Please, I can’t . . . I need to.” Panting loudly and groaning, I was bouncing on the bed—making the springs scream in protest.
“Now. Cum for me now.”
I screamed, long and loud. His fake shout of release joining mine.
I collapsed on the bed beside him, worn out as if we’d just done that for real. Turning my head, I glanced at him. His face was red, and sweat dotted his brow, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. His expression was a combination of amusement and pain, probably due to the hard-on he couldn’t hide under the towel, which he re-tucked around his waist. My ass cheeks tingled, but I knew it was only a small fraction of it would feel like to be spanked by him for real.
“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” Climbing off the bed, he strode toward the bathroom, grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a shirt on the way. “I need another shower. Alone.”
I clapped my hands over my mouth, desperate to contain my laughter. My mirth was brought short by the towel landing on my face. I jerked it away, only to get an eyeful of Carter’s glorious ass before he shut the door.
Resting his head against the closed door, Carter inhaled deeply, trying to slow his racing heart. Getting his aching hard-on under control was a different problem altogether. Holy shit, that was the last thing he’d expected to happen when he’d walked out of the shower earlier. He’d only meant to comfort her, snap her out of the past, but it had quickly escalated after her tantalizing body had ended up under his. Her responses had made it difficult to control his own. His lack of sex these past few months hadn’t helped, and there was no way he was screwing one of the neo-Nazi bunnies hopping around the compound.
Something about Mic drew him in. It had to be the similarities in their pasts, and that neither one of them were prone to letting others see beneath the façade they showed in public. While there wasn’t any romantic spark between them, the physical attraction made his blood boil. What he wouldn’t give to be able to tie her to the bed and spank her ass for real. Only she would never be able to submit to him. What had happened in there had been purely human nature—to give solace, and in her case, to seek out someone who could make the memories disappear. But he’d been wise enough to understand that and the fact she would have regretted things if he’d pushed her a little more.
He’d gone that route once before, giving in to an evening of unrestrained passion with a teammate, and while the night itself was burned into his memory, the aftermath had blown up in his face. What made it worse was Jordyn Alvarez was not just a colleague—he’d trained her. Now, she hated his guts, and he didn’t have a fucking clue why.
Needing to get rid of his hard-on, he reached into the shower and turned the water back on. If he just got dressed in his jeans again, not only would he be in pain, but there would be no way he could get away with saying he’d just had a blowjob and sex when they walked into the mess hall. The water was still warm from before, and he stepped under the spray. Grabbing the soap, he lathered it up and then wrapped his hand around his throbbing erection. Leaning against the tiled wall, he closed his eyes and stroked himself. A seductive vision filled his head—not of Mic, but of Jordyn. What was it about that damn woman that held him in knots, refusing to let go?
The twenty-eight-year-old exotic beauty from Argentina had been an international jewel thief his boss at Deimos had crossed paths with on an assignment a little over thirty-six months ago. Jordyn had been given two choices—go to jail for a very long time, or join the covert agency and become a spy. It had been a no-brainer for her, and she had exceeded everyone’s expectations, becoming one of the top assassins Uncle Sam would refuse to admit he had in his employ.
His mind drifted to their one night together. It had been this time last year during an op when the shit had hit the proverbial fan. They’d managed to escape and hide out in an agency’s safe house. The adrenaline coursing through them probably had a lot to do with that initial kiss, but after that, for him, it had been all her. The sweet and salty taste of her skin, the intoxicating scent of her arousal, the passion flaring in her eyes, and the electricity shooting from her body to his. For the first time since he’d discovered the BDSM lifestyle, none of the kink had entered his mind—well, it had, but he’d been able to override it for her. All he’d wanted . . . needed . . . was Jordyn. To lose himself in her. And he ha
d, several times that night.
Pumping his hand faster and harder, he imagined it was her warm pussy surrounding him. Her moans of ecstasy resounded in his head as if she were right there with him in the shower. His balls drew up tight as a tingling started in his lower spine.
“Fuck me, Jordyn,” he whispered. “Cum for me.”
Tightening his grip, he yanked hard and came even harder, shooting his cum into the shower spray. His legs shook with the release, threatening to drop him on his ass on the porcelain floor. Black dots and white lights flashed behind his eyelids as his lungs sighed in relief. When the last of his orgasm faded, he ducked his head under the water and grabbed the soap again. This time, to clean off.
Damn, he’d definitely needed that. Now he could get his mind back on the mission. Too many lives were at stake for them to fail.
6
I stared at the ceiling and waited my turn in the shower—now that one was necessary. I almost felt bad for Carter, but that’s what he gets for kissing me. Not that I’ll ever admit to him that I needed that kiss. He could have slapped me out of it, but that wasn’t his way. I didn’t get his lifestyle and didn’t really need to. It was apparent, even to a novice like me, that his role as a Dom included compassion and care of his woman, submissive, or whatever she was called. I can’t remember anyone ever taking care of me that way before, or any way for that matter, beyond Aunt Beatrice. Most men I’ve encountered were either my superiors, under my command, or completely discounted me. Carter felt like an equal and I wouldn’t ruin that by giving into what my body was urging me to do, which was to go into that shower and give him a hand.
We had to go out and have dinner with Nazis. Wow, what a thought that is. Having a sit-down, somewhat civilized, dinner with skin-head-master-race-wannabes. It was going to be a pleasure and a privilege to wipe those fuckers off the planet. Their narrow-minded, twisted beliefs were a disease, infecting everyone they could with intolerance and bigotry. Their hatred of those different than themselves was the cornerstone of centuries of unspeakable cruelties. They thought they could force their ideology onto the populace with violence. I was here to show them something entirely different. I would end their very existence. Even though I knew it would mean little in the long run, I relished the chance to put my boot on their throats, spit in their faces, and open the door to Hell.
Carter stepped out of the bathroom, tucking a clean T-shirt into his blue jeans. His muscular arms and torso extended and flexed with his movements. The short sleeve of the shirt partially covered that sickening tattoo of his. Liam had explained to me that it was real but easily removed, unlike traditional ink.
I bounced off the bed. “My turn. You better have left me some hot water too, lover.”
“If I didn’t, and you bitch about it, you’ll get another spanking.” He raised an eyebrow at me. The tone of his voice was different now . . . harder. Gone was the caring and teasing Dom from before, and in his place was a crueler man who was willingly following a neo-Nazi leader—at least, that’s who he was pretending to be. “This one not quite so much fun. That is, for you, sweetheart.”
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my bag and shut the door. This game might just turn out to be too much for me to handle.
Side by side, they walked to the mess hall after Mic’s shower. He almost felt sorry she’d run out of hot water halfway through but figured she deserved it for the hard-on she’d given him. Now that his mind was back in the game, he wasn’t sure his earlier plan was a good one. It could backfire on them if he wasn’t careful. Furtively checking to make sure no one was within earshot, he put his arm around Mic’s shoulder as if they were an ordinary couple. “Listen, sweetheart. Forget about the slap thing. I’ll think of something else. I don’t want to put you through that.”
Stopping in her tracks, she brought him to a halt as well and glared up at him. “No, we’ll do it. I can handle it.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts,' dammit. I’m not a masochist, but you said yourself, it’s necessary. I’ll just psyche myself into thinking we’re sparring. No big deal. Now drop it.”
They started walking again, and Carter had to admit that Mic was at the top of a very short list of people he had the utmost respect for. “You’re one hell of an operative, Mic, and one hell of a woman, too. It’s an honor to work with you.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks. Believe it or not, that means a lot to me.” He squeezed her shoulder in response. “All right, so what’s the plan in here?”
“You’re going to make nice with the women. Remember, the top dog is Brittany, the rest are all followers. Don’t rush into a fight with her, but if an opportunity comes up, then go with it. Just don’t let her get the better of you. Channel the alpha bitch who made an appearance with that redneck a few months ago at Finnegan’s.”
Stopping short again, she poked him hard in the chest. “You fucking set me up, didn’t you? Why didn’t I realize that before?”
Twenty feet away, the door to the mess hall flew open, and several men filed out. Carter grabbed Mic’s hips and yanked her flush against him, bending down to kiss her—hard. He swallowed her surprised gasp as he devoured her mouth. And, damn, if that didn’t that have his dick twitching again. Easing up after the men were out of range, he brushed his lips against hers and murmured, “Because I wanted to make sure you had the balls it took for this job. If it hadn’t ended the way it did, neither Jackson nor I would have ever approached you. Now, get back into character and stay there, my submissive little sweetheart.”
Her cheeks blushed slightly at the chastisement, but this was her first rodeo, and she needed to remember to stay in character. If her cover was blown, then so was his since he was the one who’d brought her here. Carter wasn’t worried too much about Phillips— he was a former SEAL and had been undercover many times. While they hadn’t crossed paths before today, the spy had heard good things about him and had even perused his classified record when Jackson had brought up the man’s name as a potential Steel operative. Having top security clearance had its advantages, and Carter liked to know who was going to have his back.
Pulling away, he asked, “Ready?”
When she nodded, he tucked her under his arm again and headed for the door. Holding it open, he fought against his natural urge to let her walk in first—women came second to the men here. The hall was almost full, and he saw Strauss waving him over to Wexler’s table. Pulling Mic along by the arm, he approached. Stopping in front of the group, he raised his right hand straight out into the air, his stomach roiling at the archaic gesture. “Heil Hilter.” Wexler stoically nodded his welcome, and Carter lowered his arm, placing it behind his back with the other one, in a standard military stance. “General, sir, I’d like you to meet Mikayla Robins. Mic, this is General Wexler.”
Mic hesitated. Fuck! He’d forgotten to tell her about the fucking salute. But once again, she impressed him. Smacking her boots together, she lifted her arm as he’d done. “Heil Hilter.” When Wexler nodded again, this time with approval, she adopted the same military stance and added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, General.”
“For me as well, Mikayla. Tell me, where are you from?
“Aberdeen, sir.”
Strauss spoke up. “Lieutenant Carter, I already introduced Mikayla’s brother to the general. We’ve placed him in Major Robisch’s squad. He could use an extra pair of eyes on some of the less experienced recruits.”
Phillips’s fictional background had him trying to join up with every branch of the military, and failing because couldn’t pass the psych evaluations. His “bigotry” toward anyone non-Caucasian showed through each time. After exhausting all his options, he’d instead turned his attention to private security and the training they offered. He’d been able to do the type of work he felt like he was meant to, all while his bosses calmly overlooked his mental shortcomings. He had a keen intelligence, but he was a borderline psychopath—or so everyone here thought. Perfect for a neo-Naz
i militant group.
“That’s fine, sir, thank you,” Carter replied. “He’ll do a good job as long as he has exact orders.” He was responding to Strauss, but didn’t like the way Wexler was eyeing Mic, but he couldn’t say anything that would raise suspicions. Besides, he couldn’t quite tell if the bastard was interested in screwing her or deciding where to use her in his diabolical plans to take over the world. A flash of an old Looney Tunes cartoon popped into his mind from out of nowhere, and Carter fought the urge to laugh out loud at the memory of Marvin the Martian scheming to take over the universe. At least he had a few fond memories from his youth, thanks to television.
Finally, the general shifted his scrutiny back to Carter. “Lieutenant, please get some dinner and join us. We have a few things to discuss. Mikayla can go introduce herself to the women in the kitchen.”
This was the first time he’d been invited to sit at Wexler’s table. He hoped like hell this meant he was in. He had to find out the intended targets and date of destruction before it was too late. Failure was not an option.
I glanced around the mess hall, which really wasn’t that different than Steel’s. Long tables with an industrial kitchen and a chow line, it was all very straightforward and functional. The tables were filled with men, most of whom were shaved bald and decked out in various pieces of camo and surplus BDUs. I’d bet Carter’s left nut that not a single one of these fuckwads had ever served. Jail time maybe, but not their country.
“Babe, go see if the girls need some help. I need to talk to the men.” Patting me on the ass and giving me a little shove, Carter pointed to the kitchen and sent me on my way.
No Way in Hell: A Steel Corp/Trident Security Crossover Novel (Steel Corps/Trident Security Book 2) Page 5