Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  “I can’t control it,” he warned. “I never could.”

  She inhaled, sharp. “These scientists… They are going to kill you for this, aren’t they?”

  “They are trying to.”

  “Matteo—”

  He searched her—and he felt her pain—her deep and insurmountable pain that he’d caused and was continuing to cause. It only drove him further over the edge, out of control. He shook his head, pushing her away. Rejecting her.

  It was all he could do.

  “I am not doing this.” He pushed her away before twisting to leave.

  “You never could, could you?”

  Silent, he turned back, locking eyes. She was damn right. Too right.

  Her beautiful blue eyes batted out a tear, her face twisting in agony. He felt her aching. It was in him too. He regretted so much. He wanted to nod in understanding, but his twitching jaw wouldn’t bow down. He couldn’t let her in, not even an inch. It was too fucking dangerous.

  He was ready to fucking explode.

  “Why weren’t you just honest with me?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusatorily at his chest. “Why did you keep lying to me?”

  “You’ve been lying to me too.”

  He jutted out his jaw and cocked his head, looking down at her like all he saw was meat. And damn, she always made him fucking hungry. His chest heaving and his shoulders flexing, he trailed her body with his gaze. He was about to do something they’d both regret.

  Scorching fire and glacial ice were mixing together, and the eerie sensations darted up his limbs, deep in his blood, as he felt his predatory scowl land on her luscious lips. His jaw slowly dropped, his eyes twitching, everything inside him ready to crack.

  The wildfire she lit only fueled spite in his heart. A cruelty that he hated, but needed, reared its ugly head. Darkness fell over him. He felt it. There was no turning back.

  “Please—” she panted, widening her eyes in fear as she realized what was happening.

  “Tell me your fucking secret,” he growled.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “What the fuck happened while I was deployed?”

  “You don’t deserve to—” she started snapping back, but froze, watching him.

  It was too late.

  He sensed panic racing through her body, and she tried to lunge backward. He seized her arm roughly with one hand, and with the other, he intertwined his fist in her hair. Tears burst from her eyes, and she gasped as he yanked her into him. Velcro and stiff corners of his pocket flaps crackled as they scratched against her, the only sounds other than her cries.

  “Please…” she implored, tensing in his rough hold, her body immobilized. “All I’ve ever wanted was your honesty. Couldn’t you just have given me that?”

  The words crashed through him. His actions in direct contradiction to his words, he spun her hard, slamming her against the metal side of the HMMWV. He wasn’t nice. He wasn’t gentle. Her body was up against his, and she winced as something sharp in his gear pressed into her hip—the pointed corner of my riggers’ belt.

  “I just wanted you to confide in me,” she cried. “To treat me like I was something more than a one-night stand. I just wanted you to want me.”

  As he gripped her, his needy cock began to throb, filling and tightening the crotch of his pants. He had few words, few emotions—just bitter intensity. Her fear-filled eyes still locked on him, he found his lips hovering low over her neck while he inhaled her feminine scent.

  Before he could decide yes or no, she shoved at him, trying to flee, provoking his uncontrollable ire. When she was unsuccessful in her attempt, an exasperated sound escaped her mouth that only drove him wilder. She should know just how competitive he could be.

  To teach her one final lesson, the lesson she seemed to desperately need, he dropped his mouth on her neck, taking and tasting the sweet skin. Biting and kissing up her delicate neck, he enjoyed her writhing body in his grasp. Letting out a rogue moan, she twisted in his locked arms, tilting her head back as he worked, giving him a better angle to rough up her throat. She didn’t stop fighting him, though, not for one second.

  It was a damn good thing that he loved it when she fought back.

  They both knew exactly where it was going.

  Electricity practically crackling between his lips and her neck and excitement pulsed through her body. He snarled, biting into her flesh, branding her as his, just the way she liked. He felt her heart thundering as he worked his way up her neck, the magnetism between them shifting them to a familiar place.

  Her lip trembled as he worked, her hands slamming harder in desperation against his unmovable frame. She was fighting him as much as she was fighting herself, he could tell. He refused to drop his arms and make it easier for her. He needed her to hate him—to stay the fuck away. She was better off without him.

  “I’ve always been a monster,” he growled as he kissed his way up to her lips.

  “You don’t have to be,” she disputed.

  “I do.”

  A flash storm rolled in over the arid landscape and the air pressure dropped. It almost never rained in Southern California, and even less so in the desert hills.

  “I’m going to give you a choice,” he countered, making his terms damn clear. “Stay and you get fucked—hard—right here, against this truck. Or leave and get the fuck out of my life.”

  Her body stilled, and her gaze fell on him one last time. It was that moment that he saw deeply into her—deeper than he ever had. He grew sober, more conscious than he’d been in a long time. The storm was beginning to crack overhead, and it struck him that it was going to be the last time he’d ever see those sapphire eyes.

  Then she slipped out of his arms, stepping away from him. Away from his body, out of arm’s reach, a confession poured out of her mouth—an unexpected, explosive confession.

  “You want to know what happened last year? I found out I was pregnant. I tried to tell you—but you left.”

  His jaw dropped as he were trying to find the right words to respond.

  She continued, “But you already know, don’t you?”

  “I—”

  He was too late. There was no more pretending.

  “Stay out of my life,” she threatened, livid. “You’ll never meet your son.”

  Never.

  Angry as he was, something inside him collapsed, watching her march away from him. He fell numb, unable to even flinch, as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, finding her way out.

  His cock ached, pulsed, needed relief. His mind pounded like he hadn’t slept in months. He couldn’t process any of what had happened, was happening. For the first time in a long time, dark clouds overhead opened, and Delta felt the cold, harsh rain of the desert dripping down the side of his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One year before

  “I didn’t expect this from you,” Kendra moaned as Delta kissed up her neck.

  The way he held her as he laid her down on his bed validated everything she was coming to think about this new mystery man.

  “What didn’t you expect?” he said, slowly lifting her shirt, brushing his lips down her throat, chest and abdomen.

  “I expected a guy like you would just as soon have me in his truck.” She gasped as he licked a line down her tight stomach, feeling ripples of excitement permeate through her core. “Let alone go through all the effort of bringing me to his home.”

  Slowly, he undressed her as she drank in her new reality. He’d driven her from the bar to his place, barely able to keep his hands off her during the ride. It had been the same for her. Everything was coming down to that moment. It was the first time she was letting herself have what she—and also Delta--really wanted.

  As he unbuttoned her fly, stripping off her jeans, he kissed slower and more intently around her thighs and the lacy panties she’d donned, driving her insane with arousal. He was teasing her—and teasing her well.r />
  “I thought you’d look good on my bed,” he replied, grinning up to her. “And I was right.”

  Then his rough, warm hands found their way down her smooth legs, massaging and making her feel so damn good. He slid his tongue up her thigh toward her panties, tugging at the side of the thin cotton garment. He wasn’t wasting time.

  “You’ve just surprised me,” she exhaled as he made her curl.

  She moaned as he slid a few fingers underneath the edge, touching her hairless mound, teasing her throbbing lips. It was clear to Kendra that he was pouring every ounce of energy into pleasing her, doing what it took to make her feel amazing.

  “Did you think I was just looking for a quick fuck?” he growled onto her pussy as he ripped her panties down her thighs.

  She bit her lip, unwilling to answer that, weaving her hands in his thick hair as he licked her clit slowly. The way he worked her—he was testing her. He was trying to read her body, react to how she liked it. Damn, he was an attentive lover.

  “You’re not the type of woman I’d want a quick fuck with.” He grinned as he ate her out a little harder, finding her sweet spot.

  He slid his fingers up her thighs, massaging her lips and teasing the opening of her core.

  “Then what would you want?” She exhaled through spasms as he drew waves of pleasure out of her pussy. God, he was so damn good at that.

  “I want you.”

  As he slid his tongue up and down her clit, circling and massaging—he entered her pussy with his fingers, finding little spots of pleasure that she didn’t know existed. He groaned heavily about how fucking good she tasted, how fucking hot she was, encouraging her to come all over his face. Whatever trepidation she had about letting someone she’d just met go down on her was quickly thrown out of the window.

  And he’d been making her feel good all day—from the rappel tower to the bar—and now in his bed. The romance of meeting some amazing SEAL that wanted her, and only her, drove her to the most intense orgasm she’d had in…she didn’t know how long. How can this be happening to me?

  With her fingers in his hair, holding his head, she came hard. He held her down as he clearly enjoyed giving her so much pleasure.

  “Fuck, now I really want you,” he groaned as he lapped up her orgasm, running his fingers through the wetness that dripped out of her core.

  She slowly sat up, biting her lip and watching the fully dressed man kneeling before her. She could get used to that. She never wanted it to end.

  “So, have me,” she whispered, beaming up at him, sinking farther back into his dark sheets.

  That was all she needed to say. His pants and shirt flew off in seconds, and he moved on top of her. When she rested her head back onto his soft pillow, he kissed down her neck again, finding her breasts as she twisted and moaned underneath him while he worshipped every inch of her body. Kendra enjoyed the hardness of his cock in between her legs, still caged by his boxers. She reached down, pushing at his waistband, eager to see all of him.

  He grabbed her hand, holding her still. He traced her up and down.

  “We don’t have to go all the way,” he said, his hand shaking slightly. “I know you’re more… a traditional kind of girl.”

  She beamed, running her hands up his core, which was all cut and rippling with muscle. Even hearing him say that blew her mind. The whole day, the whole evening—it had just romanced her to a point that she was willing to do something she never did. Maybe he was worth breaking rules for.

  “I never do this,” she whispered, pushing her hand through his and toying with his waistband again, tugging it down.

  His pulsing cock was just inches from bursting out. She ached to see it, feel it—needed to be as close with him as possible.

  “I believe in love and marriage… and the old-fashioned way of things.”

  “Okay,” he said, as he planked over her, showing pure strength by effortlessly hovering his body as he waited.

  “I’m not the type to do things casually.”

  “I know.”

  “Is this real?” She bit her lip. She was beginning to let herself believe that the fairy tale could be possible…with him. She continued, “Is this going to be a real thing?”

  He let his face drop to hers, inches from her mouth, his eyes serious and studying.

  “It’s never felt this real before. There’s something about you—” But he trailed off, dropping his mouth onto her lips, kissing her once again.

  Kendra closed her eyes, feeling Delta’s tongue playfully enter her mouth, tasting her. Caring. Loving. Teasing.

  She moaned under his body as she helped him slip off his boxers, feeling his engorged member bounce between her thighs. As he kissed her deeper, faster, he pulled up her knees, positioning his pelvis just right. Then his cock was throbbing at her opening, testing her, feeling her wetness. She knew how bad he wanted her. And her arousal was out of control, the chemistry in her brain exploding with passion, driving her to feel like she was in heaven.

  “Are you sure?” he asked again, in between kissing and rubbing his cock at the entrance of her pussy.

  She kissed him once more and whispered onto his lips, “Yes.”

  Immediately, he pushed up, moving his thick manhood into her, driving a pleasure so deep that she nearly lost her mind.

  Everything about his actions—the way he cared, the way he tried, the way he checked in—assured her that it was okay to fall so hard for him, to feel every good feeling she was having. He was no regular guy—and she’d finally found someone special. As he rocked his dick into her, he held her so firmly, and she just knew that it wasn’t a one-night stand. It had to be just the beginning of her fairy tale.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Present day

  Delta ran his scabbed hands along the cold metal of his Harley as he adjusted the tension, lying on his garage floor. The vintage motorcycle was a cruel mistress—beautiful, but she loved to hurt him. Every time he found himself gutting her, massaging her back to life, she would find a new way to demand his energy—only ever just to break his heart in the end, leaving him shipwrecked.

  Shipwrecked… That was how he felt now.

  As he worked the wrench, making needed tunings to the Harley, he let his mind wander to a different time—when he had been in Syria, making needed adjustments to his kit. His assault rifle out, in his hands, he purged the stock ammo, replacing it with the bullets he preferred. The guys laughed at him, like it shouldn’t make a difference. But it made a difference to him.

  It’s cold in the desert at night, he reflected silently to himself as he sank deeper into the stone walls of the compound. He was isolated in his position—deeper in enemy territory than any of his men. He was reconnaissance, in the compound first to determine positioning and threat. He wasn’t supposed to be alone, but he was the only one who’d made it in.

  Carrick was stuck outside. Waiting for his sign.

  “We’re going to pull the chute.” The chief’s voice came into Delta’s earpiece, a radio signal from their temp base miles and miles away in the mountains.

  Warren was not a risk taker. He played by the rules to keep his men alive. Delta put his hand to his earpiece, pressing his mic closer to his mouth so he could whisper.

  “No, I’ve got this,” Delta reassured.

  “It’s too risky. You’re the only one in,” Warren reminded him.

  “There’s an American hostage in there.” Delta’s whisper cracked, his emotions running high. “I can’t leave him.”

  “Fall back. That’s an order,” Warren commanded. “This is a risk we can’t take. I can’t lose you guys.”

  “Turn around, buddy. There are too many.” Carrick’s voice crackled into Delta’s earpiece, joining the conversation.

  “They can’t hurt me,” Delta growled into his mic as he was assessing the wide expanse of the Syrian compound before him using his night-vision goggles.

  From his tiny corner, under complete darkness, h
e observed many enemy combatants around the compound with assault rifles just like his. They were heavily armed and on watch.

  Why wouldn’t they be? They’d just demanded millions of dollars in ransom from the American government in exchange for a journalist they’d kidnapped weeks before. Delta knew his President would not negotiate with terrorists—and that the hostage’s life depended on Delta’s next steps.

  There wouldn’t be another chance.

  Delta knew that for damn sure.

  “Acknowledge your order,” Warren demanded, requiring Delta’s obedience.

  Delta shook his head, lifting his night vision goggles up so his eyes could adjust to the dark. He always fought better with less tech…less gear. And it wasn’t just Delta’s skill anymore. There was something else about Delta that made him stronger, better, faster. The chief still didn’t know the extent of Delta’s enhancement and the price he’d paid. He could risk things that Carrick couldn’t.

  Delta knew where the hostage was being held—right ahead in the main building, first floor. The damn guy was almost within reach.

  “I’ll fall back once I have him,” Delta confirmed into his earpiece to the sounds of Warren’s arguing.

  “Fuck. I’m coming in with you,” Carrick said.

  “Like hell,” Delta replied.

  Dropping his earpiece out, Delta spoke the final words into the mic. “Get medevac prepped—and give me ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes turned out to be an overestimation.

  With a bayonet firm on the end of his rifle, Delta stealthily stalked the compound, readying himself to attack. Once he broke his cover, he would be up against dozens of men. There was little chance he would survive, but if he did it right, he could save a hostage. Counting down in his head as he watched one of the enemies getting closer, he found himself thinking about the decisions he’d made—and realizing that there really was no going back.

  As the enemy got closer, Delta slashed out with his knife, killing the men easily. He sprinted to the compound wall and killed another…and another. Finally, he got to the compound door—slammed on it furiously. As the door opened backward, gunfire rained out of the dark hall, hitting Delta in the armor and slicing the skin on his legs. He pushed forward into the darkness without a care for his life, using his instinct to stab the gunman, but just as he pulled the blade out, he felt the man’s arms flail one last time, and a hot laceration slashed up the side of his face. It didn’t matter. Delt gritted his teeth and pushed on.