Men Out of Uniform: 6 Book Omnibus

by Rhonda Russell

  Huck growled, much like the caveman she’d been calling him. “Sapphira,” he said warningly as he pumped even harder into her.

  She tightened around him, gasping with pleasure. “What?”

  Another deep thrust, and another and another, swooping into her. Her hips banged against the door in a steady thump-thump-thump she dimly realized would probably draw some attention. She didn’t care about that either. “You’re killing me,” he said.

  She smiled against his lips, sucked him bottom lip into her mouth. “Yeah, but you like it.”

  He chuckled softly. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, clamping around him once more and hearing a gratifying hiss--her proof, so to speak--leak out of his mouth. “You want me.”

  He laughed again. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to deny it,” he said, flexing into her once more, his hips rhythmically pistoning in and out of her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of climax. Every thrust, every slide of him deep inside of her made belly clench and her sex sing.

  Sapphira rubbed her thumb behind his ear, cupped the back of his neck with her hand and drew him in for another kiss. “I know this is going to come as a surprise,” she whispered. “But I want you, too.”

  She ate his laugh, savored the taste of his masculine smile on her lips. “I had my suspicions,” he said. He slid his tongue down her neck, nipped her shoulder, causing a shudder to ripple through her and vibrate her belly. “But it’s always nice to have those suspicions confirmed.”

  “What can I say? I aim to please.”

  “No,” Huck teased. “You aim to annoy...but I happen to find that intensely sexy.” He punctuated the statement with a deliberate shift of his hips that unerringly found her g-spot. Little lights danced behind her closed lids and she inhaled sharply.

  “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Ah,” he sighed, chuckling knowingly. “There it is. Does it really matter?” He nudged deeper and quickened the thrusts, snatching her breath with each push of him against her.

  “No,” Sapphira admitted, smothering a string of curses as the world around her feet began to fall away. She bit her lip and held on, felt her body priming for release, readying for that unique moment when she’d die in his arms and he’d breathe life back into her with aid of his kiss.

  “Huck, I want-- I need--“

  “I know what you want,” he said, his voice rough and sexy. “Tell me what you need.”

  He pushed high and aimed deep, nudging her womb, filling her so completely she didn’t know where he ended and she began and she didn’t care.

  She just needed him.

  Had to have him, right there between her legs, emptying her out and making her whole, wringing every bit of strength from her body. “You know I need you, dammit. I--“

  “Say it,” he growled. “Please.”

  Something in his voice shook her the her very soul--yearning, longing, desperation and despair, a hell she knew well, one she didn’t want to be alone in either. She clamped around him, hugged him tight to her body and put her lips next to his ear.

  “I need you, Huck,” she whispered, the admission broken and breathless, laying her bare, leaving her vulnerable.

  A wracking sigh emptied out of his chest and he bucked hard into her. The edge of climax he’d been pushing her toward suddenly loomed, bright and brilliant and with one final thrust, she tumbled into that dazzling luminous with a long keening cry of release, which he ate greedily.

  One, two, three more plunging into her quivering, convulsing flesh and he stiffened, locked his knees and buried himself completely into her. He didn’t move, just pulsed inside of her. Those little throbs detonated further sparklers of pleasure, causing her to tighten around him. A pool of warmth gathered in the back of womb--his seed in the end of the condom--and it belatedly occurred to her that he’d told her he didn’t have any protection.

  “Huck, where did you get that condom?”

  “From you house. I thought it might come in handy,” he said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “For future reference, I’m on the pill.”

  He smiled against her. “I know.”

  A weak chuckle broke lose in her throat and she waited for her pounding heart to return to its natural rhythm. “Don’t tell me that’s in the file, too.”

  His lips slid into a wicked smile. “No. I saw them on your windowsill, remember? When you were trying to sabotage me?”

  That felt like a lifetime ago, Sapphira thought. “Oh, yeah.”

  He sobered. “You want to tell me what’s really going on? What really happened at the doctor’s office this morning?”

  Sapphira felt a balloon of dread pop in her chest. She’d known this was coming, had known he’d want some legitimate answers. “I want to tell you,” she admitted.

  He waited, then, “I’m sensing a but.”

  She rested her forehead against his and sighed. “But I can’t. So don’t ask, Huck, because I don’t want to lie to you.”

  “So we’re going to have to do it the hard way?”

  She smiled sadly, wishing with all her heart that it wasn’t so. “It’s my MO, I’m afraid.”

  The wrong way, the hard way, they were pretty much interchangeable when it came to her, Sapphira decided.

  Huck carefully withdrew and lowered her back onto the floor. Her legs were rubbery and she immediately missed his heat. She felt his thumb slide over her chin and he tilted her head up. His gaze was warm and resigned. “I suspected as much,” he said. “Just don’t get pissed off at me when I uncover your secrets.”

  That was only fair, she decided. After all, he was only doing what he was being paid to do. Unfortunately, if he found her out then she’d have to label his modus operandi “seek and destroy.”

  Because she’d be ruined.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Admit it,” Sapphira cajoled. “She’s growing on you.”

  Snuggled into the curve of his arm, the two of them huddled together watching old Andy Griffith reruns--common ground was a beautiful thing, he thought, thankful they’d found a program they both liked--Huck chewed the corner of his mouth to keep from smiling. “Who’s growing on me?”

  She certainly had, there was no denying that. And yesterday, after their impromptu sex in the bathroom at the coffee shop, he’d stopped trying to convince himself that what he was feeling was simply ordinary.

  There was nothing average about the way she made him feel, the way his body reacted to hers.

  But that wasn’t what she was talking about and he knew it. His gaze slid to the dog, who’d curled up on his lap and he squashed a grin. Pussy had taken a shine to him.

  “Trixie,” she said, she said, reaching over to rub the dog’s little ears. “You like her. Admit it.”

  “She’ll make an excellent snack for the real dog I’m going to get,” Huck said, much to Sapphira’s outrage.

  She shot him a look. “Real dog? Are you implying that she’s not real?”

  “She’s a toy,” Huck told her. “And, I gotta tell ya--“ He winced regretfully. “--she’d not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

  “Huck!”

  “Sapphira, she can’t even play fetch.” It was true. He’d tried tossing a few of her toys around in an effort to bring out a little of the canine in her behavior and she’d batted the damned things across the floor, as though she were a cat. Clearly she had some sort of cross-species thing going on.

  Her pert nose shot up into the air. “Fetch is over-rated. She does lots of other cute things.”

  He had to admit that watching her chase her own tail--another feline trait--was pretty damned amusing. Huck patted the little animal’s back and was rewarded with a delicate lick of his hand. “You can’t help it if you’re a little dull, can you, Pussy?”

  She gasped and punched him playfully on the upper arm. “Huck! I told you to stop calling her that.” Her cheeks pinkene
d. “It’s crass.”

  “Yeah...but you like it.”

  And he liked making her blush, which was why he kept up the nickname. Sapphira was gorgeous in any right, but something about watching that wash of color spread over her cheeks, that bashful smile slide over her mouth, made her even more beautiful. More compelling.

  Furthermore...her? Bashful? When there wasn’t an inhibited bone in her body when it came to making love? It was just another one of those complex contrasting facets of her personality that made her all the more interesting. He loved that about her. Huck inwardly grinned. Which probably made him as neurotic as she was.

  After her heartbreakingly weary don’t-make-me-lie-to-you comment yesterday, he’d refrained from asking anymore questions. Instead, in between the time they’d spent in bed, in the shower, in the bathtub and on her couch, he’d started a bit of research on his own. Using the file Ranger Security had amassed on Sapphira’s case and the daily reports of her comings and goings, Huck had noticed an interesting pattern.

  In addition to the two doctor’s appointment’s, at every single one of her so-called beauty treatments, her friend Cindy Ward had been present. He knew that girls tended to move around in packs--hell you rarely saw one go to the bathroom alone--but something about that had struck Huck as odd. It as almost as if they were meeting. But why the secrecy? It didn’t make any sense.

  The only other place she’d gone besides the various retail outlets, spas and coffee shops had been Dr. Borgu’s office and Belle Charities.

  Initially, when he’d first began on the case, Huck had written it off as a minor blip in the overall radar of her life. Lots of rich people had pet charities and organizations they liked to contribute to, more so usually to garner good press and rub elbows with more of the right people than out of a true giving spirit. Seeing that Sapphira had made a twenty minute stop at their humble headquarters downtown hadn’t set off any sort of bell.

  But after looking at the rest of the time she’d been out, it was obvious that one little stop had been more telling than any other.

  A quick search had revealed that Cindy Ward, the convenient and always available best friend, was also second-in-command at Belle Charities.

  To his ultimate shock, Sapphira was the head honcho of the organization, and though he’d discovered they like to keep things very low key, the foundation helped a lot of people. Most particularly, they worked in conjunction with a shelter downtown headed up by a Reverend Alton and one of his key programs happened to be--surprise, surprise--a mentoring program for young, unwed mothers.

  No doubt that’s what had attributed to her frequent visits to the doctor’s office, he thought, impressed with her kindness. No doubt one of the girl’s she was mentoring was about to deliver. That explained the fetal heartbeat he’d heard, the “almost there” comment Payne had remarked upon. And she gave more than her money, she gave up her time as well.

  Clearly, Sapphira didn’t want her father finding out about her involvement. Why? He couldn’t begin to imagine? Couldn’t wrap his mind around any possible reason Mathias Stravos would mind his daughter helping those less fortunate.

  Ultimately, though, he didn’t have to wrap his mind around it. Obviously he still didn’t have all the facts, and more than likely wouldn’t until she decided to share them with him.

  Because the root of all mysteries could usually be solved by following the money trail, Huck had called Payne and asked if he could do a little poking around in Sapphira’s finances. Frankly, while Huck could do a few crude searches from here, the kind of information he wanted called for a more finessed hand.

  In short, Payne’s extensive wealth could get him answers Huck didn’t have a prayer of acquiring on his own.

  Not only had Payne come through, but he’d managed it in record time. In less than an hour from the moment Huck had contacted him, Payne had returned his call and had given him the 411. Though she didn’t actually “work” for Stravos industries, she was on a mind-bogglingly ridiculous salary with the company and, here was the kicker, more than seventy-five percent of her income went into Belle Charities.

  Was that the problem? Huck wondered. Would her father object to how she spent her unearned money? And if so, then why put her on salary? Why give her any money at all? His gaze slid to the diploma on the wall. Better still, why didn’t she work?

  None of it made any damned sense.

  In fact, he wished he could say that the mystery surrounding her and her comings and goings was the only thing that seemed illogical, but frankly...there was nothing the least bit rational about the way she made him feel either.

  She made him stupid, Huck decided. Why else would he not seem to be overly concerned about the fact that he was going to be unemployed when he told Payne, McCann and Flanagan about his affair with her? That he would once again be a ship without a rudder? A free agent without a plan?

  Sure, she’d suggested that he keep that little kernel of information to himself, but unfortunately, he wasn’t wired that way. He’d made the call--he refused to label being with her a mistake--and he’d own it.

  The end.

  But would it go in any official report he filed with the company or with her father?

  Hell no.

  And that was more to protect her than him. Sapphira walked on pins and needles around her father under normal circumstances--he sure as hell wouldn’t give her any other reason to be afraid of the cold-hearted bastard.

  Furthermore, ultimately, it wasn’t any of her father’s business.

  Shaky ground, he knew, because he essentially worked for the man. Still... He’d been hired to protect Sapphira and if keeping information from her father fell under that purview, then so be it.

  His gaze drifted over the achingly smooth slope of her cheek, the shape of her beautiful mouth and lingered around her eyes and a swelling warmth spread throughout his chest. Sheer panic and an emotion so pure it hurt tangled around his heart, making his palms tingle and his breath thin.

  The question was...who was going to protect him from her?

  Because, whether he liked to admit it or not--whether wanted to admit it or not--he’d unwittingly handed her the power to hurt him.

  Lucas Finn had survived some of the most intense military training on earth, had jumped from airplanes directly into enemy fire, had battled other opposing soldiers and faced terrorists who relished the possibility of death.

  But he’d never known genuine fear. Real, bone-chilling she-could-break-my-heart horror.

  Until today.

  Because, he’d realized, nothing was more terrifying than falling in love.

  * * *

  “What do you mean you’re going to get a dog who will think Trixie is a nice snack?” Sapphira asked, taking the opportunity at a commercial break to go back to that little nugget of information.

  For reasons she couldn’t begin to explain, Huck had finally started answering some of her many questions this afternoon. Why? Only he knew, she supposed, but she wasn’t going to linger over the question. The happy fact and important thing to keep in mind was that he was finally beginning to open up. The little tidbit he’d shared about never meeting his father yesterday had been an accident, she was sure, because when she’d tried to plumb the subject further, he’d repeatedly changed the subject.

  Today however, or this morning more specifically, after he’d taken that last phone call, he’d been more willing to share. He’d also looked at her as though he’d never truly seen her before and that narrow scrutiny had made her feel like he could see through her, could peer into the deepest corner of her soul. She found the sensation equally reassuring and strange.

  “I mean, once we find out who’s threatening you and this case is over, I’m going to get a dog.”

  “Really? What kind?”

  “A big one,” Huck said, glaring at Trixie. “From the animal shelter.”

  “Big dogs aren’t always good for apartment living,” Sapphira pointed out. He’d m
entioned that Ranger Security had provided a place downtown as part of his employment package.

  Huck slid her a look and grinned, his smile the epitome of wicked. “You just want me to get a sissy dog to match yours.”

  “They don’t have to match,” Sapphira told him, though admittedly that would be cute. “I would just prefer that your dog not eat mine, that’s all.” It was the closest she’d come to alluding to the fact that she wanted things between them to continue after all of this mess was over.

  Honestly, when Sapphira had started using her mock salary for charity work, she’d essentially accepted the fact that she would be permanently indebted to her father. That she would have to hide her work in order to keep the money coming in and going out.

  What she hadn’t factored in at the time was how that indebtedness would essentially prevent her from ever truly breaking free of her overprotective yet mostly absent parent. How his approval and ability to control the purse strings would ultimately give him the power to orchestrate her life as he saw fit.

  Until now it had never been a problem. She’d been content and happy. For the most part, he’d left her to own devices and she’d come and gone as she pleased, periodically dated, but had never been serious about anyone. She’d been so focused on what she was doing that she’d never fully explored what she’d be giving up to keep up the status quo.

  Sapphira looked into the future now, one that she longed to share with Huck, and saw a quagmire of problems and a landmine of obstacles to overcome.

  Bottom line, Mathias Stravos would never approve of Lucas Finn. It wouldn’t matter that he’d fought and served for his country, had been wounded as a result of that service--another tidbit he’d shared. She’d been intrigued by the new scars, the angry one, in particular, across his knee, and he’d finally told her about the training mission gone bad.

  In one fell swoop, he’d lost his career.

  The blink of an eye and life as he’d known it--his entire purpose had changed. Then Ranger Security had given him a home and he’d squandered it on her, Sapphira thought, hoping with all her heart that he’d avoid the honorable thing and not tell them about their affair.