Military Men

by Shelley Munro

  Nikolai slid a hand down her bare back and reveled in the satin-smooth texture of her skin. It was true. Each minute spent with her anchored him tighter. Like a silken trap, but he’d stopped fighting for freedom. Each time he mentioned marriage, the word slipped easier off his tongue.

  Marriage to Summer Williams would be different from his time with Laura. Summer would fight for her independence. She’d expect it. When he left with his unit, she wouldn’t pine away. She’d get on with her life. Yet knowing that didn’t worry him. Despite her youth, she bore integrity.

  He trusted her.

  Nikolai breathed deeply, drawing a lungful of Summer essence and flowers. He’d always thought of flowers as girly. Now he thought of her. He cupped her bottom and slid one thigh between hers. He drew flush with her feminine flesh, the heat he encountered sending a jerk of impatience the length of his cock.

  “You want me,” he whispered, part of him in awe. All they’d done was kiss, yet she was ready for him. The knowledge made him feel god-like.

  “Always,” she said, running her fingers across his chest. The light scratching and pinching of her fingers sent a jolt of lust soaring. She massaged his chest with one hand, digging in and retracting her nails like a cat, and damn if he didn’t want to purr.

  Nikolai leaned over to jerk the bedside drawer open. He grabbed a condom packet, ripped it open and rolled it on his dick. With one hard thrust, he slid into her tight channel. Summer clenched her inner muscles, making her flesh tighten around his girth. A repeat move forced a groan past his clenched lips. Helpless under her spell, he withdrew and thrust, increasing his pace when she moved with him, clutching his shoulders, still digging her fingernails into his skin.

  Another drive sent sensation rippling from his cock. He quickened his strokes, savoring the slap of flesh against flesh, the pain of Summer’s fingernails and the small whimpers she made at the back of her throat.

  He gripped her hips and pounded into her. He was close to climax. He wanted to keep thrusting hard and fast until his seed spewed from him, but he wanted her pleasure too. Desperately needed this. His hand slipped between them to dance across her swollen clit. He massaged lightly and gritted his teeth, trying to hold back.

  “Nikolai.” She cried out in pleasure. “Nikolai.”

  “Come for me, sweetheart.” His finger slid back and forth, ’round and ’round, and he couldn’t prevent another plunge into her hot depths. One more plunge was all it took for him to explode. Spasm after spasm shook his body. Then Summer tumbled into climax, gripping his cock in her silken flesh. He swallowed his groan at the vise of pleasure that gripped mind and body. Fuck, he was in trouble here and wise enough to know it.

  * * * * *

  Nikolai woke alert and ready to fight. Training had taught him to assimilate the situation without moving a muscle. He listened intently, trying to work out what had woken him. The moon shone through the window, aiding his vision. Summer slept on, her mouth slightly open. Her chest rose and fell and a faint whistle sounded, followed by a snort.

  His lips quirked. Something to tease her about.

  A floorboard squeaked, wiping his amusement clean. Someone was inside the house. He untangled his limbs from her warm embrace and grabbed his jeans. His habit of leaving them on the floor right by the bed was good planning.

  “Nikolai?” She stretched with no pretense at modesty, her mouth split wide in a yawn.

  “Someone’s inside the house.”

  She sprang from the bed and grabbed her clothes. “Dare?”

  “Doubt it. He’d get someone else to do his dirty work.”

  Another board creaked at the far end of the passage.

  “Ring your brothers.” Nikolai didn’t wait for her to answer, but opened the bedroom door and slipped out.

  She strained to hear anything out of place. Nothing. She shoved her arms into her shirt, getting tangled in her haste. “Breathe,” she muttered, giving herself an old, familiar lecture.

  A crash reverberated from the far end of the house. A muffled thud. Anxiety for Nikolai hastened her speed. Dressed, Summer grabbed the phone.

  The bedroom door flew open before she finished dialing.

  “Put the phone down, girlie.”

  The man wasn’t tall—about the same height as her—but his shoulders were bulky. When he switched on the light, she blinked. Her first clear look at his narrow, scarred face wasn’t reassuring. Mean and determined. Fear jumped squarely in the middle of her stomach. She backed up toward the window. She’d come in that way—maybe she could leave via the same route.

  She kept dialing, trying to concentrate despite the trembling fingers and her split attention. Sparring in the gym was different from confronting a man intent on injury.

  “Put the fuckin’ phone down.” He had a smoker’s voice, and it reacted on her like fingernails on a blackboard.

  The crashes in the passage outside increased in intensity. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to know Nikolai was in trouble.

  The man snarled, a sound from deep in his belly. “Girlie, don’t make me tell you a third time.” He kept coming and closed the distance between them with a flying leap. Summer danced out of the way, trying to breathe through her panic. The rasp of her lungs indicated a need to calm herself, before she went into a full-blown asthma attack. If she did that, she’d be about as useful as a book with missing pages.

  The wooden screech of a rising window sounded behind her. She whirled in time to see another man climbing through the window into the room. The smug expression on his freckled face fueled anger. Fine. She was cornered. She admitted it, but that didn’t mean all was lost. She placed the phone down on the dressing table and stepped away.

  The door opened without warning, and someone thrust Nikolai inside. A trickle of blood ran down one cheek and his hands were tied behind his back. She bit back a cry, knowing she needed to keep calm.

  Breathe, she reminded herself.

  Nikolai’s calm demeanor helped her focus. Their gazes met in silent communication. His was hot with fury. Pissed and in warrior mode.

  Summer suppressed a swallow and looked away. Two men followed—one a stranger and the other very familiar.

  Summer’s chin jerked upward. “What are you doing here, Dare?”

  “I want the book, Summer. I know you have it.”

  “The book I picked up for you? I gave it to the hostess at your restaurant. Didn’t she give it to you?”

  “Quit with the cute stuff. I know you have it—process of elimination. Give me the book and no one will get hurt.”

  She didn’t believe him for a minute. Beneath the city gloss lurked a shark. She saw it now—clearly, just as Nikolai had warned. Dare had killed already or one of his men had without giving a second thought to the victim or his family. She hoped the hostess at his restaurant was alive to tell the tale.

  “The book.” Dare stepped up to her and slapped her across the face.

  Summer stumbled back with the force of the blow.

  Nikolai growled and flung himself at Dare. He didn’t get far. The freckled man kicked him in the stomach, and he fell to the ground.

  She raised a hand to her hot cheek and glared at Dare. “I don’t have your damn book.”

  “Come, my dear. You can do better than that.”

  “Boss, I’ll make her talk,” the freckled man said.

  Summer darted him a look and inwardly shuddered. The way he scanned her up and down sent loathing crawling across her skin. A combination of mean and stupid blazed from his open face. She didn’t want to go near the man.

  “I’d love to feel those tits of hers. Bet they’re real. Not those false jobbies.”

  “Maybe later, Ross.” Dare smirked at Summer, obviously sensing her unease and happy to foster her fear. “Give me the book, and I’ll let you go.”

  “She said she doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” Nikolai said.

  “I didn’t ask you. Get him on his feet. We’ll take him to t
he warehouse. If he gives you any trouble, knock him out.”

  Summer’s stomach lurched, the nagging knowledge that this situation was her fault making her feel ill. What should she do? Did she tell the truth? That the police had the book, or did she try to stall? Neither option looked good. Bottom line—the book wasn’t hers to give.

  But perhaps…

  “The book is in my room next door.” And so were her brothers. She turned in that direction and whirled back on hearing a thump. She bit back a cry of horror. They’d hit Nikolai on the back of the head.

  “Nice try, my dear. It’s not. The house was searched last night, so we don’t need to waste time searching again or bother about coming face-to-face with the two men currently in residence.”

  Summer wrinkled her nose and aimed for ditzy. “If you’ve misplaced your book, why don’t you buy another?”

  “Like you did.” Dare studied her with a dispassionate look, unfazed by her act. “This is what we’re going to do. Take the boyfriend to the warehouse. We’ll release him once you return the book.”

  “What about me, boss?” the freckled one said. “What should I do?”

  “Go with the others. One drive and the other two sit in the back with him.” Dare jerked his head in Nikolai’s direction. “If he regains consciousness, make sure he doesn’t get away.”

  “What about her?”

  Summer held her breath. If Dare intended to send the others with Nikolai, she might have a chance to get free. A slim chance—if she kept her wits about her.

  “Summer and I are going to have a little chat.” Dare’s face hardened, giving her an inkling of his determination. In that instant, fear dug in its claws. He was determined to reclaim his book. Nikolai and her brothers were right. She was in over her head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Just showing you how serious I am, my dear.”

  Summer scowled and bit her lip to keep the horrified tears at bay. Dare’s three men had hauled Nikolai from his bedroom unconscious and bleeding, and there hadn’t been a thing she could do to stop the beating. “I am not ‘your dear’.”

  “No,” Dare said, prowling around her and looking her up and down like a piece of merchandise. “You’re his whore.”

  The air whistled through her teeth as she sucked in an affronted breath. Who the hell was he to call her a whore when he was into crime and murder? Outside a car started and pulled away. Gradually the sound faded, leaving her alone with Dare.

  She’d wanted independence, and now she had it big-time, she wanted the comfort of her bossy, nosy family.

  And Nikolai.

  “What? Nothing to say for yourself? You would have made a good wife for me Summer. Young. Intelligent. My parents liked you. You would’ve made a good mother for my children. Even bloody Ngataki saw my interest.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  He sauntered around the bed, assured and confident in his ability to handle her. Summer waited until he was within range, her heart hammering with a combination of bloodlust and anticipation. Cocky little twerp. Nikolai was worth ten of Dare Martin.

  “I wouldn’t take you now if you paid me,” he drawled.

  She sprang at him, lashing out with a kick to the head, her aggression taking him by surprise. His head snapped back, and she gloried in the shock that rippled across his face. Grunting, she kicked out again and stomped on his glossy, black leather shoes. He shouldn’t underestimate a woman. A balled-up fist to the stomach made him hunch forward.

  “Bitch,” Dare spat, wary now as he stepped out of range.

  “And proud of it,” she snarled. “At least I’m not a coward.”

  Dare lunged at her, but she danced out of his way unscathed. She circled, watching his eyes, and feigned a punch to his upper chest in a move that would have made her teacher proud. When he reacted, she went low, sending a striking blow at Dare’s groin. The animal scream of pain as he crumpled brought satisfaction. Bastard.

  She rubbed her hands together in a job-well-done gesture. He deserved worse. Much worse, and by the time she was finished with him, he’d be sorry. She grabbed a belt and a black tie from the wardrobe and used them to bind Dare’s arms and legs. Thanks to her brothers, she knew how to tie a decent knot.

  Keeping a wary eye on Dare, she hurried for the cell phone.

  “Yeah?”

  Her brother sounded alert as if he’d been awake for hours. Must be a SAS thing. “It’s me. Nikolai’s in trouble. They took him away to a warehouse somewhere.”

  “Stay there,” Dillon ordered.

  The phone slammed down, and she nibbled her bottom lip before coming to a decision. She checked the numbers Nikolai had stored in his mobile and rang Jake.

  He answered on the first ring, just as alert as her brother. “Yeah.”

  “It’s Summer. Nikolai’s in trouble.”

  “The book?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At Nikolai’s place.”

  “Louie and I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything without us.”

  “Summer!” Her brother’s holler echoed in the passageway. “Where the hell are you?”

  “Down here.”

  Dare groaned, and she debated kicking him again.

  “The bedroom,” Dillon said. “I should have known.”

  “Who’s he?” Josh said. “Doesn’t look too healthy.”

  “That’s Dare Martin. I kicked him in the testicles,” she said with distinct relish. “Nikolai’s friends, Jake and Louie, are coming to help. I don’t know where they’ve taken Nikolai or what they’re going to do with him. He was unconscious. This is my fault.”

  “Guess we can use their help,” Dillon conceded.

  “No blame game, Summer. Hold it together for Nikolai. He’s tough,” Josh said.

  Summer turned to Dillon for added encouragement and found her brother glaring at the rumpled bed.

  “Until I get my hands on him,” Dillon snapped. He bent to check Dare. “Good job, sis. Doesn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere.”

  “But we need to find out where they’ve taken Nikolai,” she said. “Dare can talk, right?”

  “Go and wait for Jake and Louie. We’ll talk to the clotheshorse.”

  “That’s what Nikolai calls him,” Summer said.

  “We agree on something,” Dillon said deadpan.

  She rolled her eyes and walked from the bedroom without glancing back.

  * * * * *

  Daylight, early next morning

  “What if we can’t find Nikolai?” Summer demanded for about the fourth time. Disquieting thoughts, fueled by her vivid imagination, increased her uneasiness as she glanced from Dillon to Josh, who sat beside her in the rear of Louie’s car. What if they’d hurt him even more? What if they’d killed him?

  She’d been so busy fighting for independence and playing games she hadn’t admitted to her feelings. She attempted to swallow the huge lump of fear working its way up her throat. What if it was too late?

  “Can we gag her?” Josh asked.

  Jake turned and grinned from the front passenger seat. “She’s your sister. You gag her.”

  “Aren’t you worried about Nikolai? He was unconscious. They killed the owner of the bookshop. And we’ve got no idea where he is.” Her sentence ended on a pained whisper. She sensed the men glancing at each other in alarm. “I’m not crying,” she gritted out.

  Jake’s cell phone rang. “Yeah? The intel is good?”

  Summer studied Jake as he listened, tension crawling through her stomach until she thought she might vomit. The tense set left his shoulders, and she let her breath ease out in relief. They knew—or had a good idea—of Nikolai’s location.

  “We’ll meet you there,” Jake said, confirming her guess. “East Tamaki. Cryers Road,” he instructed Louie.

  The car accelerated down the motorway.

  Summer’s hands twisted in her lap. Please let him be all right. She tho
ught about his marriage proposal. Again. Ever since they’d dragged Nikolai from the bedroom, she’d worried about not telling him of her feelings. Stupid and stubborn to the finish—that was her. And don’t forget reckless, her conscience prodded.

  “Why don’t you kick a girl when she’s down?” she muttered.

  “Huh?” Josh said.

  On her other side, Dillon’s gaze pushed holes in the side of her face.

  Summer turned to glare at him. “What?”

  “Our sister is losing it,” Josh said.

  Her gaze jerked back to Josh. “Your sister is in love with Nikolai Tarei,” she snapped. “He’s in danger because of me, and I’m worried sick.”

  “Go, Nik,” Jake said from the front seat.

  “What if something happens to him? It will be my fault.”

  Josh groaned, long and loud. “Will you shut up?”

  “But—”

  “In the glove box,” Louie said.

  Jake didn’t ask questions but bent to open the glove box as directed. He pulled out a navy-blue silk scarf and turned round to the back seat with a grin. “A silencer,” he said.

  Dillon snorted. Josh chuckled, but Summer stared, momentarily diverted from her worries. She’d glimpsed a second blue scarf in the glove box before Jake slammed it shut. “Do you tie up woman with those scarves?” she blurted.

  For an instant, there was stunned silence, and all she could hear was the smooth purr of the car and the distant din of a siren.

  “What kind of fool question is that?” Dillon demanded.

  “Well, I don’t know about you,” Jake drawled, “but I’m kinda interested in the answer.”

  Josh stirred beside her. “Yeah.”

  “We’re almost there,” Louie said.

  Jake groaned. “Aw, come on, mate. You can’t leave us hanging like that.”

  “Don’t answer,” Dillon ordered. “Not with my baby sister in the car.”

  “She’s not so little if she’s doing the horizontal tango with Nik,” Jake pointed out.

  Both Josh and Dillon growled.

  “That’s enough,” Summer said, placing a hand on each of them. “Louie, I’ll discuss scarves with you later. Do you have any books on the subject?”