Hope's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 5)

by Riley Edwards

  Shit had hit the fan, as it often did while on a mission, and Jangles had caught the business end of a knife.

  New day, new scar.

  His body was covered in so many blemishes, holes, and marks that one more made no difference.

  Jangles climbed into bed behind Hope, tagged her hip, and rolled her to her side so he could fit his front to her back. He did all that knowing he shouldn’t, but doing it anyway because he couldn’t stand the thought of not touching her.

  “You’re home,” Hope whispered.

  Jangles closed his eyes and let her words wash over him.

  Christ.

  “Yeah, baby, go back to sleep.”

  “But—”

  “Baby, I’m wiped. We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

  “Okay. Welcome home, Beau.”

  Christ.

  Beau.

  It was good to be home.

  Chapter 3

  Hope woke with a start and fought the last threads of the nightmare.

  Jangles’ arm around her middle tightened and she screwed her eyelids closed, hating that he’d felt her jolt.

  He wouldn’t ask, he never did.

  The nightmares rarely came when he was holding her, but as rare as they were, Jangles always woke.

  But never asked.

  She should’ve been grateful, it wasn’t like Hope would’ve told him anyway. But the lack of response was a cold hard reminder of what they had.

  “You good?” Jangles’ sleep-rough voice sent goose bumps racing down her arms.

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes slowly cracked open, happy the man whose bed she was in was behind her and couldn’t see the vestiges of the dream still playing across her features. Not that he’d comment, but Hope didn’t want him to see, didn’t want any of her past to taint how he saw her.

  If he knew the type of woman I am, he’d kick me out of his house and never let me back in.

  That thought hurt worse than it should’ve.

  That was not what they had. Never could be. Never would be.

  Hope’s hand roamed over Jangles’ forearm but stopped when she felt a bandage.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing,” he grumbled.

  Her finger continued to trace the edge of the tape. By the length of the dressing, it didn’t feel like nothing. However, she knew better than to push. Not because she understood he’d never tell her what happened, but because she appreciated him not prodding into her personal life, so she’d return the favor.

  “Glad it’s nothing.”

  Seeking the warmth of Jangles’ big body, Hope pressed deeper and sighed when she felt his lips press against her neck.

  “You need something, smalls?”

  She told herself the shiver of excitement was from the long, thick erection rubbing on her ass and not from Jangles calling her a silly nickname. But recently the lie had become harder and harder to swallow.

  “If you think you’re up for it.” She wiggled her backside in an invitation.

  “When am I not?”

  “I can think of a time or two when—”

  “Babe, two minutes after I’ve blown down your throat and you’re ready to go but I need a few minutes to recover does not count. And while you’re waiting for my cock, I do not make you wait without my mouth between your legs. So I’ll ask you again, there ever a time I’m not ready to give you what you need?”

  Cue the full-body tremor.

  “If that’s the case, then what’s the hold-up?”

  Once again, Hope’s eyes closed, this time in a slow blink when she felt Jangles shaking with laughter. She knew it was coming so she braced, and when the shaking turned audible and his mirth filled the room, she soaked it in like a greedy addict. The sound of his deep, rough laughter glided over her skin and she absorbed all of it. Every last drop he was willing to give.

  The tee she’d slept in was up over her head and tossed away, followed by her panties, and without further delay, one of Jangles’ hands cupped her breast while the other dove between her legs and teased her opening.

  “You ready for me?” Jangles asked as he trailed a line of kisses from her ear down her jaw.

  “When am I not?” she parroted his earlier response.

  Hope bit back her sigh when Jangles shifted just enough to slide his cock through her wetness from behind. The engorged head teased her clit and she automatically tipped her ass to give him better access. This wasn’t an invitation—Jangles didn’t need to be invited to the festivities, he never did. Not once, not even the first time, did the man need encouragement or direction. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to work her body to wring every ounce of pleasure from her and he did this expertly.

  “Give me your mouth.”

  Hope turned her head, eager to give him what he wanted. The moment her lips touched his, Jangles slammed home and swallowed her cry of delight.

  “Fuck.” Jangles broke the kiss and growled.

  God, she loved his snarled curse. In all of the months they’d been together, Hope still couldn’t believe little ol’ her could turn big, bad, tough Beau Talbot to a snarly beast.

  “Goddamn, it’s good to be home.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Jangles knew he didn’t just mean it was good to be home stateside. He didn’t even mean it was good to be home in his bed.

  He was fucked in more ways than one. He knew it when he’d hit his bed last night and didn’t wake Hope to sink deep inside her warm, willing body. Instead, all he’d wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and sleep.

  More and more, he was thinking of Hope as home.

  And that was dangerous.

  “Jangles,” Hope moaned, and for some inexplicit reason, his heart seized.

  “Beau,” he corrected. In an effort to stop himself from saying more, like say, explain that while her tight pussy hugged his cock he wasn’t Jangles, he captured her mouth and pounded harder.

  Christ. Beautiful.

  All of her, the taste of her on his tongue, the weight of her tit in his hand, the way her nipple pebbled, the way she arched her ass, wanting him deeper. All of it. And it scared the fuck out of him that the connection they shared went beyond sex. But when her pussy started to quiver around his cock and her excitement leaked down his balls and dripped on his sheets, all thoughts of the risky game he was playing were swept away.

  There was nothing left but them, the pleasure they created, and the rush to climax.

  “Beau. I’m—” Her moan dangled and her pussy clamped down around his cock.

  Then his world narrowed further as he slammed home as deep as he could and shot off, bathing her insides with thick ropes of come.

  Him. Her. Ecstasy.

  When Jangles finally had some brain function back he gave Hope a slow, gentle glide of his cock and enjoyed the way her pussy trembled after her orgasm.

  “You want me to clean you up or make you breakfast while you shower?” he asked, and because he couldn’t keep his mouth off her, he licked the area above her shoulder and loved the resulting shudder.

  Fucking beautiful. All of her.

  “Neither.” A pang of something that Jangles didn’t want to process slithered up his throat. “I wish I could stay but BF needs my help this morning. I didn’t know you’d be home or I would’ve pushed it to this afternoon, but now he’s waiting for me. And you know him—if I’m even two minutes late I’ll get a twenty-minute lecture on respect and responsibility.”

  The ball of unease tightened when he found he liked that she was leaving because she had plans and not because she was trying to ditch his ass.

  Courting trouble.

  Fucking hell.

  “Need help?”

  Hope stiffened and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why.

  That wasn’t what they had. He didn’t help her with projects she worked on with BF. She didn’t hang with him and his team at get-togethers where Nori, Destiny, Gwen, Ivy, or any co
mbination of the four were present. She didn’t even hang with them when they were sitting at the bar at the Ugly Mug. She served them their drinks, joked with the guys, smiled at the women, and occasionally if no one was watching she’d flirt with him. She also did all of that with Lefty, Oz, Brain, Doc, Grover, and Trigger—minus the flirting—and not just because some of them were taken.

  “No. He just has a new ceiling fan he wants me to install. It’ll take me ten minutes and besides, you just got home. Buster might protest and claw up your furniture if you don’t give her some attention.”

  Fuck. Why were they talking about ceiling fans and cats while his semi-hard cock was still gliding? For that matter, why hadn’t he pulled out and rolled away?

  Because you like being connected to her, you dumbass.

  “I’ll clean you up before you go.”

  “Jangles.”

  “Beau,” he reminded her.

  Fucking hell.

  “Beau. I’m fine.”

  He pulled out, ignoring the way his cock immediately missed her heat, and kissed her neck.

  “Don’t move,” he demanded.

  What the hell am I doing?

  By the time he had a wet washcloth between Hope’s legs, washing away the evidence of his orgasm, he still had no answer.

  Chapter 4

  Jangles felt the irritation building. It’d been three days since he’d seen Hope. Two days since she’d texted him and told him Baby Face had a long list of projects he needed her to do, which meant Hope would be doing them, therefore busy.

  That was the source of his agitation—not so much that she was too busy to see him, but that she was going at those projects alone. BF’s property was on the outskirts of Killeen. It wouldn’t be considered a ranch because there were no animals, but he had land—lots of it. He also had a few outbuildings, an RV, two single-wide trailers, and the house he lived in. Jangles had never been in any of the buildings, but he’d seen them. He’d also seen the state of their outsides and knew they were well-kept, and it wasn’t BF who was making them so—it had to be Hope.

  Baby Face was not a man to take advantage, likely Hope had him snowed. There was no doubt she was tough, physically and mentally, but it still pissed Jangles off she was going at it alone. Not reaching out and asking for help with whatever tasks she’d been working on.

  “Hey there, handsome. Cool surprise,” Hope greeted.

  He’d timed his visit to the bar perfectly, thirty minutes before closing meant that the crowd had thinned and she’d be off soon.

  “You leaving?” Her head cocked to the side and her face got gentle the way it always did right after he told her he was leaving on assignment.

  Fucking Christ.

  That look gutted him—every time. Yet, he kept going back for more. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t let her go.

  “No, baby. I’m not leaving,” he told her, and Hope’s eyes scanned the bar. He knew she was looking for one of his teammates. He never came in alone. “Came in to see you.”

  “See me?”

  Hope didn’t hide her shock. Actually, she hid very little from him—except she did. When they were together, she gave him everything, all of her time, all of her attention. She was fully immersed in them—always, from the first time he’d taken her back to his place. But she shared nothing about her past. She didn’t talk about her nightmares, the scar on her arm, how she’d met BF, how she’d learned to work on cars, what she did with the time they were apart.

  Nothing.

  It was time for a change.

  Cut her loose or move us along.

  And he hadn’t known for sure which it was going to be until he’d walked in the bar, sat down, and saw the look on her face. She was exhausted. But that wasn’t what had his gut tight. It was the shock in her pretty brown eyes that he’d come in to see her. What the fuck was that? They’d been seeing each other for months. No, they hadn’t—they’d been sleeping together.

  And that was going to change.

  “You’ve been busy,” he unnecessarily told her. “Wanted to come around and see if you needed any help.”

  Jangles watched with no small amount of frustration as Hope closed down.

  “Nope. It was just some handiwork around the house and an oil change on BF’s van. Easy peasy.”

  The broad smile she gave him was fake. At first, Jangles hadn’t recognized her quick jabs and easy smiles were a lot like his buddy Zip’s. Totally bogus, a defense mechanism to hide the pain. Now that Zip had reconnected with Destiny and his source of anguish had been extinguished, his smiles were real.

  And right then, he vowed to find Hope’s source of pain and snuff it out.

  “So you’re done?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good, then you’re free to hang with me tomorrow.”

  Jangles hadn’t posed his statement as a question and there was no way Hope could miss his demand.

  “Actually, I have to work at the range tomorrow before my shift at the bar. BF has some vets coming in. That’s what’s kept me busy. I needed to get the trailers ready because they’re staying a few days. But I’m free after I close the bar until noon tomorrow.”

  Jangles ignored the pang of annoyance. After all, that was what they were. What they’d agreed on.

  Sex. No strings.

  If Hope was any other woman, he’d be doing backflips that she understood his place in her life. Yet it pissed him right the fuck off that Hope was offering him her body but nothing else.

  “Grab me a beer, would ya?”

  “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be—”

  “Beer, Hope.”

  “Sure thing, handsome.”

  With a wink, she strutted her fine ass away to grab him a beer. Jangles caught the asshole at the end of the bar eyeing her and he barely contained his growl. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught a man staring at Hope, she was a beautiful woman. It was, however, the first time he had the urge to rip someone’s head off because of it.

  Hope popped the top off Jangles’ LoneStar IPA and didn’t bother with the pint glass she knew he wouldn’t use, but she took her time making her way back to him. She needed to fortify her resolve.

  She was in too deep.

  At some point, she’d done what she’d told Jangles she’d never do and developed feelings. At first, those feelings were friendly, so she’d allowed herself to have them. Then slowly, they’d turned into more. Not only would Jangles be disappointed, but it was wholly unacceptable to her. She had no place in her life for a man, or for those emotions.

  Feelings like that made you stupid. They made you make bad decisions, and after the second chance BF had given her, she couldn’t afford stupid.

  Hope had spent the last three days coming up with an exit strategy. Slowly, she’d extradite herself from his life. This wouldn’t be hard because their lives hadn’t truly mingled, though her heart had managed to twine with his. That was okay, too. Jangles could keep it—that way, she’d never find herself in this situation again. One she never thought she’d face again after what Went had done to her.

  Wentworth Collins—the spawn of Satan.

  “Hey, darlin’,” the college kid at the end of the bar drawled. “When you get a minute, you think I can get my tab?” The kid paused, and with what Hope assumed was supposed to be a sexy grin but missed its mark by a mile, he continued. “And your number while you’re at it.”

  Totally cheesy.

  “I can get you that bill, but the only number you’re gonna get from me is your total.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he muttered.

  “No, I suppose you can’t.” Hope gave him a smile to soothe the sting of rejection. “Be right back with that bill.”

  Hope made her way down the bar and took in Jangles. His eyes were on her, and if she didn’t know him the way she did, she’d think he was simply looking at her. But he wasn’t, he was watching. The nuance would be subtle with another
man, but with Jangles it was obvious. Watching meant assessing, evaluating, measuring a threat. Hope had seen the change many times, and not just from him but from his team, and Lefty’s, too. Sometimes, the guys had gone from looking around the room to scrutinizing it. Something Hope figured was ingrained in all of them due to their jobs.

  But Jangles had never watched her. It was unnerving so by the time she stopped in front of him to deliver his beer, she felt exposed.

  “Here ya go.” Hope placed the bottle on the bar and tried to interject as much happiness in her tone as she could while her heart was in her throat.

  How am I going to let him go?

  “That happen a lot?”

  “Yep,” she answered, not bothering to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. Jangles wasn’t dumb—he’d sniff the deflection and call her on it.

  “They always take it that good?”

  “Take what?”

  “The letdown,” he explained.

  She didn’t think she wanted to go there with Jangles. She’d never seen it directed toward her, but she’d seen it aimed at Nori, Destiny, Gwen, and Ivy—Jangles had a protective streak just like all the guys on his team. She wasn’t sure what he’d do if she answered honestly. What she did know was, she didn’t want to find out.

  “They don’t,” he muttered, correctly reading her silence. “Fuck.”

  Hope felt something sweep over her, something she didn’t want to feel, something she’d gone to great pains not to feel. But right then, she couldn’t stop the rush of emotion as it burned down her chest and settled in her belly.

  She didn’t want to feel his concern but it couldn’t be missed. Hope didn’t want Jangles to care if a man hit on her then called her nasty names when she turned him down. But damn it to hell, the knowledge that he did felt like a warm, sunny Texas afternoon. It coated her skin and made her wish for things she couldn’t have.