His Man : A Wounded Souls Novella (The Wounded Souls Book 6)

by Leah Sharelle

  My eyes searched the main room, and it didn’t take long before I found what I was looking for—torn jeans, unlaced black military boots, and a tight white tee. Ford.

  An evil smile formed along with an idea of the perfect way to exorcise the devil from my back.

  Let’s see if he can avoid me now, I thought wickedly.

  Getting up from the stool, I casually strolled over to where Ford was standing. I could tell he saw me, the slightest jump in the pulse at the base of his throat giving him away. Ford and I were both black belts in the discipline of Krav Maga, a combination of several lethal martial arts, which the military trained us in. Most special ops soldiers were trained in some kind of hand-to-hand combat, so all my brothers had specialised training. However, Ford and I had that little extra, the next level of fighting with our hands and our minds. We could predict what the next move our opponent was going to make. We both had a heightened sixth sense and, whether we liked it or not, had a connection to each other. Deep down, I liked it, and I liked seeing his reaction when I got close to him. Even when he couldn’t see me coming—like now—he felt me.

  Quickly, I shook off the direction my mind was starting to head. I was still mad about Ava and my family’s refusal to see my side of things. I wanted to make my own decision on the course the rest of my life was going to take, including how and with whom I was going to take it with. Sparring with Ford always helped me calm my inner turmoil and helped me fight the demons that plagued me every single day. Most of the time, our sessions tended to take a more serious turn. I lost count of the times Darth had to break us up when the fighting got a little out of hand. The big prick’s hands had been the size of shovels, for Christ’s sake.

  A small ache started up as it usually did when my thoughts went to Darth. I still couldn’t comprehend he was gone, but I guess none of us would ever come to terms with it.

  I passed by Deck, giving him a chin lift and a wink, and his answering smirk let me know he was onto me. Mannix, who was standing by the pool table with a cue in his hand just shook his head with a sigh and put away the cue. He then moved two of the chairs out of the way, clearing the area for what was to come.

  “Ford.” Even though my voice came out strong, on the inside, I was less confident. This would be the first time since he was discharged that our hands were going to be on one another. Not the way I wanted, but it was good enough.

  Ford slowly turned his head my way, his scruffy hair covering one eye, and the hair on his face at least five days’ worth. I blocked out the memory of how that scruff felt against my own skin. Would I ever feel it again? My heart certainly wished it so.

  Ford’s eyebrows rose. He knew what I wanted.

  “Really, Lucky? You wanna go now?”

  I ignored the use of my codename. All my brothers used it whether we were on a mission or here at the compound while Ford, on the other hand, only used it when needed. To him, I was Bryce, although not lately. Now I was Lucky to him, nothing special. I ruined that when I— No, stop it! Don’t go back there. The past is the past. I breathed in deeply. My focus needed to be on the present. Calling on my training, I emptied my mind. Ford was an expert fighter, so I had to get my wits about me.

  “Yep, now. Reckon you can take me this time?” My taunt hit the desired mark.

  With a low growl, Ford tossed his lighter on the couch beside him and, without a word, leaned down to remove his combat boots and socks. I quickly did the same, my gaze never leaving Ford’s movements. He was a quick man, his lanky but muscled body perfect for the fast-paced sport. I had about ten kilos on him, which was okay for boxing and wrestling, but when it came to this particular discipline, speed was the name of the game, and Ford was the best there was.

  In my peripheral vision, I could see my brothers were moving furniture out of the way, giving us enough room. Usually, this sort of activity would be done in the gym, but with the lateness of the night and Shiloh and the babies fast asleep, I guessed Booth was giving us a pardon this one time.

  “It’s been a long time between drinks, mate. You sure you’re up for it?” Ford asked me. He was jumping in one spot, his arms twisting this way and that, loosening up any stiff muscles. His question held two meanings. One was the time passed since we last went at it, the other being my recovery from the gunshot I had suffered. He needn’t worry about either one.

  “Your concern is touching, mate, or maybe you are just worried I’m gonna kick your arse again,” I said as I performed the same warm-up exercises as Ford.

  “Are you idiots going to fight or talk like chicks?” Mannix taunted us from his position near the pool table, a gleam in his eye. The enforcer was a prolific fighter in his own right and could street fight better than anyone I knew, other than Deck—that man was fucking strong, hands like hams. I went up against Deck once in a fist fight, and he knocked me on my arse, not before breaking my nose, though. He had pure brute strength.

  I focused back on the man in front of me. “Ready.” As I grunted, my body automatically fell into the fighting stance. I knew Ford was not going to take it easy on me. He never did.

  The first hit came right at my chest as two powerful hands landed right on my pecs, propelling me backwards. I instantly righted myself and flew at my opponent. The first punch landed where I wanted, and Ford’s head snapped to the left on impact. He expertly deflected two more, then countered back immediately with two blows to my lower belly, winding me. After that, we both countered, blocked, and knocked our bodies black and blue. Sweat poured off me, the pain of each landed punch blocked from my mind as Ford and I did what we were good at—using anger to hide what we really felt, what we really wanted.

  “That all you got, Luck?” Ford asked. His breath heaved with the exertion of the last ten minutes, and he had a cut above his right eye. I hated seeing him hurt, especially at my own hand. Usually, it was around this time that Darth would pull us apart before the sparring got too out of control, but the control I was known for was gone. In its place was anger and frustration from the fight I had with Ava, my parents’ absurd prejudice, and even Ford for the temptation he made me feel. All of it fed the fuel, and there was no stopping me from inflicting some pain.

  I saw Booth round the pool table, his face taut with something like concern. I knew that look—he was going to stop the fight. I dug deep, forgetting for a minute that my arms and legs burned, my fists swollen. I swung my whole body around, arced my leg, and kicked out. My shoeless foot hit Ford right in the solar plexus, sending him flying backwards. His shout was both surprised and pained, and I stood panting, shocked that I had done that. Never once had we used that particular kick on one another. It was designed to be fatal if the right amount of force was used. Appalled at myself, I rushed forward to where he had fallen to the ground. Deck and Mannix were already there, helping Ford to his feet.

  “Fuck! Ford, man, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Are you okay?” I quickly ran my gaze over Ford, looking for any serious injuries. Kicks were usually the worst weapons, and my feet were pretty big.

  “All good, brother. Good kick. Had I known we were adding them to our sparring, I would have landed one myself,” Ford said, grunting at me accusingly. He was pissed, and he had every right, too. Never had I let my anger get the better of me. My training as a top mission pilot was my best asset, but tonight, it failed me. I was lost between two worlds. So fucking lost that I doubted I was ever going to find my way out.

  “Ford—” I started to apologise again, but I was cut off with a look, which Ford had perfected over the years. The combination of hurt and disappointment cut through me, slicing my heart.

  “Forget it, Lucky. Good move, mate. You got your message across loud and clear,” Ford said quietly. He shrugged out of Deck and Mannix’s hold, limped over to the couch, and slowly picked up his boots. Without another look in my direction, he took off for the hallway that led to his rooms.

  “Well, that was interesting, Lucky,” my VP said with a disappointed ton
e. “Ain’t ever seen you pull that on him before.”

  I looked over at Steel, whose eyes were narrowed at me while the others were watching Ford leave, his shoulders slumped and defeated.

  “I never meant to go so hard. Fuck, that has never happened before,” I muttered, ashamed.

  “You better go see him, mate. That was a pretty harsh move, and he is going to be hurting for a while after that,” Booth suggested, his grey eyes saying more than his words.

  “Yeah, you’re right. He will definitely have a bruise,” I agreed as I reached down and grabbed my boots.

  “Wasn’t talking about that pain, mate,” Booth told me, his meaning not lost on me.

  The last thing I wanted was Booth disappointed in me. He was not a man to tolerate shit between members in his club. He also did not tolerate cowardice, and right now, that was me. Hiding from the truth about the real me, the man I craved to be. I just had no idea how to do that and keep everyone happy. I lowered my eyes from the all-seeing grey ones as embarrassment engulfed me.

  “Copy that, LT,” I mumbled and took off after Ford, who had already disappeared down the hall.

  Chapter 5

  FORD

  Fuck! Pain radiated from every muscle in my body. Bryce really went to town on me in that session.

  We had a rule that there wasn’t much off limits in sparring, but a power kick to the upper abdomen? That was a low blow, and Bryce knew it. I rubbed my hand gingerly over the spot again. Damn, that was going to leave a hell of a mark come morning. The damage to my heart was another matter. The bloody thing was shattering.

  “Ford!” Bryce’s booming shout hit my ears just as I rounded the corner that led to my room.

  Fuck me! Why couldn’t he just let me suffer in peace? I slowed my steps and waited for Bryce to catch up. I wasn’t normally a glutton for punishment, didn’t enjoy getting my heart stomped on over and over, but I needed to know what his game was, why he was doing this to me, to us.

  I hissed with pain when I turned around. Damn arsehole.

  “Fuck, Ford. I didn’t mean it,” Bryce said again, his gaze running over me, which heated when it reached my bare chest.

  Instantly, a blanket of heat surrounded me. I loved it when Bryce looked at me. His eyes never lied. Even when we fought or when he was lying to himself about us, those eyes of his told a different story. Like now, they were telling me he liked what he was seeing. I was covered in tatts from head to toe, literally. I had several on my face, my neck was covered, including the Wounded Souls skull tattooed on my throat, and from there down there wasn’t a bit a skin left un-inked.

  I ignored the hard-on that was swelling behind my zip, though how the fuck I was able to get aroused while I was in pain was beyond me. That was the power of the attraction Bryce had on me.

  “What the hell was that, Bryce? You knew that kick was going to land where it did, and we never do that, brother,” I yelled at him.

  I saw the flicker of desire flash across his face when I used his given name. I’d promised myself from now on he was just plain old Lucky to me, making our conversations less personal. His proximity and the obvious heat radiating from him had me reverting to my old ways. Weak. I was so weak when it came to him.

  “I don’t know what came over me, Ford. I had a fight with Ava on the drive back to her parents’ place, and she spouted all sorts of shit that pissed me off. I’m so fucking confused, and my head is all over the place. I guess I took it out on you,” Bryce explained.

  At least he had the decency to look contrite. It didn’t excuse his behaviour, though. Being his punching bag to get out his frustrations concerning his fiancée rubbed me the wrong way. Bryce had a habit of using other people to justify his bad behaviour, and I was quickly getting tired of it. Back in the desert, he worried about the other guys finding out about us. Now it was his family and Ava. What the fuck was I to him? A dirty fucking secret? It was time I found out. This living my life in a weird limbo had to stop. I deserved more, better. Whether or not that was Bryce… I had no idea.

  “What I am to you, Bryce? Seriously, I need to know because I’m out of answers here, mate. You say you’re lost, so can you imagine what I am feeling. Do you even give a shit?” The words tumbled out, years of dreaming he was going to be mine and then nothing spilling out of me. I couldn’t stop the tirade even if I tried.

  Bryce stumbled back, almost as if my words hit him in the chest and knocked him off balance.

  “Fucking Christ, Ford. Of course, I give a shit. There isn’t anyone else I care about more than you—”

  I stopped him with a harsh laugh, not believing what I was hearing from him. What a crock of shit! He cares about me more than anyone? What a bloody joke!

  “Is that right, mate? Well, I’d hate to see how you treat people you don’t care about.” I looked at the man who was the subject of every dream I had, every hard-on I got, every heartache. This had to stop. I had endured enough. With my new mindset, I squared my shoulders. It was time to take back control.

  “You know what? I’m done! I’m obviously not worth fighting for, and that’s fine, Lucky. I get it. Go back to your stuck-up, snooty, rich girl. I don’t give a shit anymore. I will find the right guy who isn’t embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with me, to call me his. Just do me a favour, and stay the fuck out of my way, yeah?” With fresh resolve, I turned on my heel. My only recourse was getting to my room and away from my man. Fuck, not mine––he will never be mine.

  A deep growl came from behind me, and seconds later, I found myself being pushed roughly against the wall. It all happened so fast I barely had time to register the pain from the sudden movement. Pissed off hazel eyes bored into mine, and Bryce’s mouth was inches from mine, his throat working up and down.

  “You think I’m ashamed of you? Embarrassed to be seen with you? You think we’re done? We ain’t done, baby––not by a long shot.” Bryce panted hard as he spoke, each question coming out like a threat. His voice was low and dangerous as heat poured off him. My cock twitched in my pants again. This was the Bryce only I knew. The man who took charge, made me submit, made me hungry. I licked my lips as they watered for a taste.

  “Yeah, I do,” I croaked out. My voice was lost somewhere between Bryce’s heated glare and my thickening cock.

  “Think again,” Bryce growled before his lips descended on mine.

  Euphoria erupted inside me at the first contact of his warm, soft lips. The years of waiting, wishing, dreaming of this exact moment drifted away. All that mattered was now.

  I reached my arms around his waist and pressed my hands against Bryce’s lower back, pulling him closer to my body. We were roughly the same height, so our lower bodies easily pressed together. His hardening erection bulged against mine.

  “Does that feel like I don’t give a shit, baby?” Bryce whispered against my swollen lips as he took one of my hands and placed it between our fused bodies, pressing it against his denim covered hard dick.

  I groaned at the contact with his dick, which was huge, hard, and throbbing.

  My gaze stayed riveted to his wet lips as I managed a small shake of my head. How I did, I didn’t know because my blood had rushed to my pants. My heart was beating out of my chest each time he called me baby. Bryce was the more dominant of us, demanding control of my body. He knew what I needed, how I needed it, but he was also romantic.

  Again, his mouth took mine, his wet tongue licking the seam of my lips, demanding entry, and I gave it willingly. Fuck, I would give him anything about now.

  “No other man is ever going to do this to you, Ford, so you can get that notion out of your head.”

  As a low growl released from deep in his throat, I stroked my hand along the large ridge of his zip. His possessiveness turned me on, and it always had.

  “You have Ava,” I whispered, reminding him of why I was so upset.

  “I haven’t touched her, not in that way. I can’t. It’s just you, Ford, always just you, baby,” Bryce adm
itted with a harsh release of breath against my mouth. His forehead rested against mine as both of us gulped in air.

  His declaration elated me. This had to mean what I thought it did, right? He wanted me, wanted to be with me.

  “It’s just you for me, too, Bryce,” I responded. I boldly slid my tongue down his neck, his skin tasting musky with a hint of salt. I revelled in the goosebumps that formed on his skin as my tongue traced a path across his Adam’s apple, his grunt of approval spurring me to go further. We were in the hall that was used by two other couples, so we could get caught at any time. Bryce must have known this, too, yet he didn’t seem to care.

  I ripped open his button-down shirt, the press studs giving away easily to reveal his well-formed, muscled chest. He was sporting a few red marks and welts from our sparring. With tenderness only Bryce brought out of me, I lovingly kissed each mark, taking my time and enjoying my exploration.

  Bryce’s hand came to the back of my head and held me against him, his panting and groans of pleasure nearly my undoing.

  “You know what I want. Put your mouth there. Lick me. Suck me,” Bryce demanded.

  My mouth found his flat disc, the nipple extended with excitement. Bryce loved nipple play. Christ, I could make him come with just that alone and had done on more than one occasion.

  Over and over, I sucked his nipple into my mouth, my tongue swirling across the tight nub, which earned me erotic groans from my man.