Quadruple Duty: All or Nothing - A Military Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

JASON

  The moment stood out in high-relief for me; Sammara’s warm body, writhing beneath my grasp. Screwing back against me in a mess of hair and sweat and oil… the pleats of her skirt bouncing sexily around her slender hips as I exploded inside her.

  Sexually she was a total dynamo — every bit my equal. But it wasn’t just that. It was also physically, emotionally, mentally…

  She was everything I’d ever wanted.

  The decision to marry her had been an easy one. Sammara would make an outstanding wife. A loving mother. A perfect partner, as intelligent and ambitious as she was beautiful.

  But the five of us. Uniting as one…

  That was an even bigger motivation for me. To have this woman — this wonderful, remarkable woman — as the common thread that wove us all together for the rest of our lives? It was almost a dream. Kyle, Ryan, Dakota and I… we were already inseparable. Brought together in battle, we’d forged bonds that could never be broken, regardless of time or circumstance or distance.

  And yet now there would be no distance. We’d be as a single unit — a tight-knit family. An unorthodox relationship for sure, but one that would be five times stronger than anything I’d ever had before.

  I looked her over, watching her sleep. Seeing the rise and fall of her warm, feminine body as it lay beside me in the twinkling darkness.

  God, she was so absolutely perfect.

  In the beginning I’d doubted it, to be honest. Not because I hadn’t desired it, but because I was skeptical. I couldn’t imagine us finding a woman who could fulfill all of our needs, and yet still be fulfilled by us as well. One that could get along with us. Tolerate us. Love us all, despite our faults and differences and shortcomings.

  But Sammara had seen past all that.

  She was a spitfire; strong and sassy and tough as nails when crossed, or whenever she needed to be. But beneath it all, a heart of gold. An emotional openness and genuine caring that brought me back from the brink of a very dark place. One I’d visited too many times, over too many years.

  One that was now, thanks to her, virtually gone.

  We woke the next morning and did it all over again, this time in the shower, this time face to face. We kissed for what seemed like forever in the rising steam, letting the hot water wash over our bodes. It was so overwhelmingly sensuous, staring into her cobalt blue eyes. Sharing that sly smile in the middle of it all, while slowly grinding away, deep inside her.

  The shower was sort of our thing, really. It had been, ever since the night we’d first met. A night of danger and fury and excitement… and ultimately, a night of intensity and pent-up frustration as the two of us took solace and comfort in the physically raw, emotionally magnificent act of screwing each other’s brains out.

  Sammara.

  My wife.

  Even the sound of it sent my pulse racing. It touched a part of me I’d never realized I’d had — filled a void deep inside me that had somehow always been empty… at least until I’d let her in.

  “You starving too?”

  She asked the question casually as she shook out her hair. As if she wasn’t even aware of the place she held in my heart.

  “Hell yes.”

  “Good,” she smiled, whipping me with the towel on her way from the bathroom. My eyes followed every graceful curve of her naked body. “Fall in and let’s roll out.”

  I chuckled inwardly. It was one of the most endearing things about her; her little attempts at using military jargon. She was always just a tiny bit off, although sometimes she came damned close. The four of us found it cute and adorable. Not one of us would ever correct her.

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  Our day in the city was a whirlwind of sights and sounds and places. Since I’d planned last night I let her take the lead, and we ended up traveling, as always, to look at what Sammara deemed the ‘coolest’ old architecture in the city.

  We shopped at a half-dozen stores, stopped at two different museums, and had lunch overlooking the river. But the best part for me was holding hands. I loved glancing over at her whenever she got excited about something, which was quite often. Watching her beautiful face light up like a Christmas tree… and silently knowing she was mine.

  In the end she came close to outlasting me. Just as I was opening my mouth to suggest we head back, Sammara turned and flung herself into my arms, kissing me fiercely.

  “Take me back to our room again.”

  We went, and this time around we took our time. We fucked slowly, lazily. Drinking each other in like two lovers sharing the same breath. I screwed my fiancé with her luscious thighs spread achingly wide, and Sammara rode me while the sun set behind the last row of buildings, where the fire of the orange sky gave way to a deep, brilliant purple.

  When we were finished, she cuddled up into the crook of my arm and asked me about Di Spatia. She wanted to know the exotic places we’d been, and what we were doing there, and whether or not she needed to be worried. But I didn’t want to talk about Di Spatia.

  I only wanted to talk about her.

  We ordered room service rather than go out, and just ate and laughed and talked. We ordered some movie, and didn’t watch a single minute. Eventually we were naked again, spreading out across the cool sheets to plant tiny kisses up and down each other’s bodies. When we’d taken what we needed from each other again we lay together silently, in the darkness. Listening to the sounds of the streets below.

  “You have to go away, don’t you?”

  She said the words with a sigh. Not of disappointment, or of protest, but of contented observation.

  “Yes. For a while.”

  Sammara rolled onto her stomach, leaving her perfectly rounded ass in full, deliberate view. She folded her slender arms across my chest.

  “Will you be back soon?”

  I paused, then cursed myself for pausing. “It shouldn’t be long.”

  Damn. She knew me all too well. Better than I knew myself, it seemed.

  “Are you telling the truth?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  She raised an eyebrow and glanced up at the ceiling. It made her look mischievous.

  “You’ve been more honest than anyone else,” she admitted. “Sometimes painfully honest.”

  “See? There you go.”

  She let out a long exhale. Now she did look disappointed.

  “It’s… It’s just that I’ll miss you.”

  My body tingled as she began planting another series of warm kisses across my stomach. I concentrated on the sensation of her lips against my skin. I wanted to remember those kisses. Store them away. Take them with me.

  “Okay,” she said at last. Her wonderful blue eyes locked on mine. “But you’ll be careful.”

  The way she said it wasn’t even a question. It was a statement. An understanding, between us. I smiled down at her, and could barely see her face through her thick mop of golden hair.

  “Always.”

  Eleven

  SAMMARA

  I spent as much time as I could with Jason before he left. We all did. It was one of those pre-deployment things we were all aware of, and did our best to enjoy the time we still had.

  The moment the door closed behind him, I was already calling a meeting with the other three.

  “Kitchen. Now.”

  Kyle and Ryan looked a little confused. Dakota came down the hallway with a towel slung over his shoulder, having just finished his workout. He was scratching the back of his neck.

  “Please,” I added sweetly.

  A minute later we were all at the table, the coffee maker sputtering noisily as it brewed. I didn’t mean to alarm them, but I wanted us all on the same page. I’d learned, over time, that miscommunication could run rampant in a five-way relationship.

  That is, if you didn’t take precautions.

  “So what’s the deal?” I asked. “Where’s he going?”

  I hadn’t asked Jason directly, even though I was sure he would’ve t
old me. I just didn’t want him worrying about what I knew.

  Dakota shrugged. It wasn’t even a good shrug. He was a bad liar and a terrible actor, and I frowned at him.

  “Iraq,” Ryan said simply.

  I nodded appreciatively. A few years ago, when our relationship first started, my boys would’ve lied their asses off to keep me from the truth. Back then they claimed they did it to ‘keep me safe’, and in their own way, they meant it. Only it hadn’t kept me safe, and it turned out I would’ve been better off knowing the whole story, had they actually trusted me.

  But they knew better now.

  “Di Spatia’s last Army contract was to guard a small collection of oil refineries,” Ryan explained. “It’s one of the final few contracts we need to fulfill before we can separate ourselves from the government and go fully private.”

  That made sense to me. I knew they were trying to distance the mercenary company from US involvement. At least for a little while, until they rooted out which officers were trouble and which were not.

  “So he’s over there to fulfill the contract?” I asked. “Why not just end it? Abandon it and make a clean break?”

  “Break the contract?” Dakota smirked. “Have you met Jason Briggs?”

  I rubbed at the tired spot between my eyes. He was right about that much.

  “And he’s over there for another reason,” Kyle said reluctantly. There was a dark tone to his voice I didn’t like.

  “What’s that?”

  Ryan was staring at him, as if he’d said too much. Kyle just shrugged.

  “Two of our guys went missing.”

  My heart sank. “When?”

  “Last week.”

  “And he’s going over there to… what? Find them?”

  Ryan and Kyle both nodded. “Something like that, yeah.”

  A weight dropped somewhere in the pit of my stomach. I had a bad feeling. A gut feeling.

  “It could be nothing,” said Ryan. “Could be they just lost comms. It’s pretty remote out there, in the plains of the western desert. Lots of mountains, bad reception…”

  “Sandstorms, dust-storms…” Kyle added. “Bedouins showing up, ransacking your gear…”

  I crossed my arms. “Any chance these guys just deserted? I mean they did work for Markus at one point…”

  Markus Ladrone was the deposed captain of Di Spatia, thanks to Jason. And Kyle. And Dakota. And a little bit of me, if we were really counting. His men hadn’t exactly been loyal, especially considering the way he’d treated them. But I just couldn’t imagine any men deserting Jason in the same way.

  “Briggs knows what he’s doing,” said Dakota firmly. “If these guys are out there, he’ll find them. And if they’re not…”

  The coffee maker chimed ominously, at exactly the moment he trailed off.

  “He’ll find them anyway,” Kyle jumped in. “So try not to worry about it.”

  I was satisfied, to an extent. They’d told me the truth. They’d trusted me enough to keep me in the loop, with information I knew they’d die to protect from anyone else.

  It made me feel special. Loved.

  “You’ll let me know the second you hear anything from him?” I asked.

  “Of course,” said Ryan.

  “I mean the second.”

  “Yes,” laughed Kyle. “C’mon Sammara, why would we keep anything from you?” He slid into the chair beside me and put his hand on mine. “Hate to say it, but you’re in the circle of trust now.”

  “And there’s no getting out,” Dakota joked. I felt his big fingers clap gently over my shoulder. “You’re stuck here for good.”

  “Shackled,” Ryan winked.

  I smirked back at him suggestively. “Tied up?”

  “If that’s what you want, sure.”

  I let out a contented sigh. It felt enormously good, finally being this close to them. Being able to talk about anything, knowing I wasn’t being shielded or ‘protected’ from the truth.

  “Good enough?” Kyle asked, squeezing my hand.

  “Guess so."

  “Alright then,” he said, pushing his chair away. “Let’s get out of here for a little while and do something fun.”

  Twelve

  SAMMARA

  The first two weeks passed quickly, or so it seemed. Summer gave way to fall. The leaves around our beautiful lakehouse estate turned yellow at the edges, and there was a crispness in the air that I always welcomed, always loved.

  Fall was the best season as far as I was concerned. The holidays were fun; Halloween and Thanksgiving, with little in the way of stress and without the horrible specter of having to send cards and buy things for everyone, as with Christmas.

  Both Kyle and Ryan delved into their work, which sometimes kept them on base overnight. Each of them were in the process of fulfilling their last enlistment obligations, in addition to outlining what their new duties might be. This would free them up to spend more time with Di Spatia, and by proxy, us.

  For Kyle this was no big deal. He was glad to be free of traditional enlistment, and happy to take side work which consisted mostly of training future Ranger regiments. The job would sometimes call him away for two month stints teaching combat leadership courses, but that was okay. I felt comforted knowing he was Stateside, and for the most part, safe.

  For Ryan however, the adjustment was going to be much more difficult. Coming from a long string of bad foster parents, he’d seen the Army as a way out. It had been his savior, his love… even his parent. For that reason he was reluctant to fully end his service, but his impeccable record and long string of citations and accomplishments — not to mention his two bronze stars — were the deciding factor in his superiors keeping him on as a ‘commissioned consultant’. Whatever the hell that meant.

  That left Dakota, the only one still fully immersed in the Ranger program. He could be called away at any time, to go any place, to do anything. That part always bothered me, because Dakota was my rock. No matter what kind of day I was having, Dakota was always wearing his big, bright, trademark smile. His ‘Iowa-boy grin’, as the others called it.

  No, Dakota was always happy. Always in a chipper mood. Whenever one of us had a problem, or an issue, he was the first to drop one big arm around us and ask how it could be fixed. He was like a big blond teddy bear, really. A teddy bear that could crush you with one big hand… or deliver death from three kilometers away.

  Over the past few years I’d learned the least about what Dakota did, but what I did learn was terrifying. Apparently he was a legendary sniper. The others laughed, joked, and chided him whenever they felt like it, but in regards to his role as a Ranger they talked about his ‘work’ in various campaigns with cold, grim reverence.

  “The part I can’t wrap my head around,” Kyle once told me, “is how indifferent he is as a soldier. How he can somehow separate the things he’s done on the battlefield from real, actual life.”

  It was something I had to admit I respected as well. Out of the four of them, Dakota never once told me a story. He never once went into detail about a job, or a mission, or any predicament in which he’d nearly lost his life. Sometimes he’d tell me of the places he’d been, but he’d always describe them with bright, happy adjectives and a big smile on his face. He’d talk about the food, and the people, the culture — all with a boyish, tourist-like wonder. Like he’d been to Hawaii instead of Tikrit. Bermuda, instead of Kandahar.

  It was always strange, listening to him speak, because I knew Dakota had been to these places for deadly reasons. When the Army called on Dakota Bradley, it wasn’t for security, or recon, or information. No… whenever they called upon him?

  Someone was going to be eliminated.

  Essentially, I had to put these things aside. Like the wife or girlfriend of a police officer, I understood the inherent dangers of the job. A military spouse or significant other had it even rougher, because their partner would leave for the other side of the world, sometimes abruptly, somet
imes for months or even years without warning.

  But that was also why they’d put out the ad in the first place: there were four of them. Four dynamic men looking to share the love and affection of a single woman, one that wouldn’t be put off by the drawbacks inherent to their lifestyle.

  Another week went by, and my loans came through! I was thrilled to receive funding, and even more excited to get the ball rolling on the first of my projects. The guys took me out to celebrate that night, crawling from bar to bar in my favorite part of the city and ending with a steamy cab ride home, during which we had to tip the driver extra to keep his eyes on the road.

  It was amazing, having them share in my success. Being with them through the origins of my budding new venture, which of course I’d dubbed Modern Vintage Homes.

  At the same time though, I felt guilty. Guilty that Jason wasn’t there.

  Every day I asked one of them if they’d heard anything. Every day they answered no. Kyle tried assuring me this was all normal, and that the lack of communication was nothing out of the ordinary. But as the days wore on, I could see his body language change. His eyes betrayed his worry when I asked, and his shoulders slumped just a tiny bit more each time.

  And not just him, but Ryan and Dakota too.

  Finally it came down to a windy Friday, when the four of us seemed overly restless. Kyle wanted us to all go out, maybe see a movie. Ryan wanted to stay in. I went upstairs to find Dakota, and have him break the tie. But when I approached his door, ready to knock softly, I found it already open…

  … and Dakota sitting on his bed, his head sunk into his hands.

  Thirteen

  DAKOTA

  “Dakota!”

  Her voice was soft but sharp, and laden with concern. I hadn’t heard her coming. Honestly, she’d just about scared the crap out of me.

  “Is it Jason?” she gasped. “Is Jason—”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” I said quickly.