by Zoe Dawson
She laughed and thumped his chest. “You are completely impossible.”
“Nope,” he said, his voice going husky, “I’m so easy, babe. You make me so damn easy.”
She was a jumble of emotions. Her sexual state had rather suddenly and unexpectedly gone from a coma into overdrive, with a man who was practically a stranger, a situation she wasn’t even close to sorting out.
He covered her and used his knee to nudge her legs apart. She could feel how hard he was as he settled there. There went the world again, shrinking down so small, so infinitesimal.
There was only him, the weight of him holding her down. “My body is crazy for yours. All you have to do is breathe to turn me on.” He eased her leg up around his waist, fitting himself to her, testing her, then he slipped inside all the way, making a deep guttural sound that made her sex clench around him. “Nothing like it on earth,” he said. “My hard dick inside your tight, wet little box. So good,” he moaned.
She started to say something but he stole her words with his mouth, opening it wider over hers, pulling her tighter, as his hard body and thick cock consumed her, and he kissed her long and wet, and deep, over and over, making love to her mouth, to her tongue, and her lips. “I just want you, all your wet softness, all your sighs of surrender.”
He pulled out and then thrust back into her so slowly, the magic of his body washing over her again and again.
His thrusts made him a part of her, fueling her needs that had been just as overwhelming as the last time she had been like this, naked and wanton beneath him. He filled her, not just with his body, but with his pleasure and the sheer power of his desire. His hands were on her, gliding over her skin, holding her, strong and sure, leaving no part of her untouched. He’d known exactly where he’d wanted to go, and he’d taken her with him.
It was all so achingly lovely, to just feel him inside her, on her, all over her. She slid one hand down his chest, her fingers pressing against those tantalizing hard muscles, to the dark hair that covered his groin. She loved the way he felt, all hard, lean muscle moving on top of her, each flex and thrust of his hips pushing him deep inside her.
She knew him, knew this could go on endlessly, until they transcended conscious thought, until they reduced themselves completely to taste and touch, sight and sound and scent. It was eroticism poured into her skin. It was stamina and otherworldly delights. It was strength and the willingness to surrender. It was amazing. It was the reason he was called Kid Chaos.
Long minutes flowed into each other, sliding across the night, until she no longer existed outside of him. His heat was hers, infusing every pore. The taste of him on her. She moved, and he moved with her, as one, until he tightened his arm low around her hips and pulled her against him. All movement stopped, then, except for the slow slide of his other hand up the middle of her torso and between her breasts, until his hand came to a stop at the base of her throat. His palm was so hot, pressing her back into the bed. He branded her; bound her. It was dominance of the most primal kind imaginable, and it demanded submission. His gaze held hers, dark and glittering, his hair falling thick across his forehead as he pulled her even tighter against him.
When he pressed into her, heat flashed across her body. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and brow. He made that boy wonder move again, and a tremor started deep, deep inside her. He felt it, she could tell by the darkening of his gaze. A feral smile curved his lips, then his eyes drifted closed and his head went back. He moved her against him, pumped into her, his teeth bared, a low growl coming from deep within his chest, getting her hotter, making her wilder. She wanted him. She wanted this, all of it desperately. Her legs tightened around him, and with his groan echoing in her ears, she felt the first pulsing jerk of his release, his cock so hot and hard inside her. Molten heat pooled in her groin, and when he thrust into her again, she was with him, drowning in ecstasy, suffused with pleasure so deep, she felt it in her bones, down to her soul, so full of him, he was a part of her.
Kid Chaos had instead turned her world upside down into some kind of crazy kaleidoscope of beauty and understanding. Instead of chaos, he’d brought order in his own, beautiful way.
Afterwards, she turned toward him and he gathered her close.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she had thought he was going to be one of the greatest adventures of her life, but he was more than that, so much more.
14
Early morning light woke her and she roused from sleep, fully awake. She opened her eyes to Ashe. She didn’t want to wake him and even though she wanted to touch him, she kept her hands off him. But she looked.
Looked her fill, he was so beautiful. The sun was warm, heating up the small hut. He’d kicked off the blanket, leaving himself naked to her gaze. He had smooth, dark skin, but as she studied him, she noted imperfections. He had a long diagonal line down his back, several raised round wounds and other nicks and scars. The body of a warrior, marred by battle, but still so gorgeous. All she could see was that he was a work of art, his body a living sculpture of muscles beneath his skin. Lean and highly-defined.
He shifted, sending those muscles rippling, and he turned so his face was pressed close to hers, his breathing still even and steady.
Everything about him was steady and she hoped, hoped like hell she hadn’t drawn him into something that would get him hurt, this precious man she’d found in the wilds of Bolivia. Her chest heaved, and she covered her mouth, realizing that this was all going to be over and this…thing with him was going to come to an end. That was what they had agreed on. He’d go back to San Diego and his deployments, and she’d go back to her job, another case closed, her promotion secured, increasing her hours. She’d have what she’d worked so hard for—her own team.
She’d see Atticus graduate, the last boy out of the house. He’d grow and train into a man like Ashe. Oh, he should be so lucky to be a man like him, but she knew he had the foundation and was already an amazing person. Then it would be her and her father working and living together, neither of them really living.
Her breath hitched and her eyes flooded with tears. She’d been there for her father and her brothers, cooked, cleaned, worked, nursed, and nurtured them. But now she realized she’d never taken a thing for herself.
She closed her eyes as the tears squeezed out. She felt his fingers on her face, the tips brushing at the moisture. His breath was warm, his body solid as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her cheeks where the tears had left tracks. “Aw, babe. Talk to me,” he said softly, his voice husky from sleep.
“I was just thinking about Atticus.”
“Your youngest brother?”
“Right. He wants to be a Navy SEAL.”
“And that’s making you unhappy?” He sounded worried, and she’d never heard that tone before.
“No. Not that,” she said, opening her eyes and meeting that intense gaze.
“What then?”
“Soon he’s going to be gone and it’ll be just me and my dad.”
“That’s making you unhappy? Living with your dad? Or is it the empty nest thing? I know you’re not his mom, but you’ve been like his mom since he was in diapers. Those feelings are normal, sweetheart.”
He was trying so hard to understand her, her heart turned over and there in a one room hut in Bolivia naked and vulnerable, open and real, she fell in love with a man she’d only known less than a week. It was lust at first, until she’d gotten to know him, but his attempt to try to understand her, try to support her, and comfort her was the kind of man she wanted forever. But she was trapped between what she wanted and what she had planned for. Ashe hadn’t been in the plans. He was just this big, beautiful irresistible force who had hit her like a freight train and knocked her whole world out of kilter.
She was at a loss on how to make this work when she felt so burdened by all the baggage in her life.
She cupped his face because he was being so sweet. She kissed his mouth, lingering for a h
eartbeat. “Thank you for trying to get it. But, yes, sometimes you come to a crossroads and everything hinges on the choice to go right or left. The one thing you do know is you can’t go backwards.”
“No. That doesn’t work,” he said, his eyes serious and direct. “But doesn’t mean you can’t go sideways or on a tangent. Leap up or lie down until you figure it out. Making a choice is important, taking your time is just as important.”
He cuddled her closer and they lay there for a few more minutes until Ashe tensed. She heard it the same time he did. The sound of an engine.
Scrambling out of bed, and hurriedly getting dressed, they stood to one side of the window as a beat-up Jeep motored into the little cluster of huts. The sound of the Quenchen language carried easily on the air.
Both of them relaxed. It was one of the caretakers checking on the building.
“Looks like we got ourselves a ride.”
An hour later, they were back at the Range Rover and heading back to the city. As soon as Paige got a signal, she called her boss, gave him the information and the coordinates. He told her they were scrambling a joint SEAL/NCIS team and would be there by the afternoon. The NCIS team would secure the warehouse in the city and the SEALs would handle the rebels at the crash site. Her second call was to Cris.
When he answered, she said, “Cris, I need you to listen because this is important. You and your family are in danger. You should get out of La Paz at least until tomorrow.”
“Why Paige?”
“I’m afraid that Bryant Anderson is the man I’ve been searching for since I came to Bolivia.”
He sighed heavily, his voice sounded strange. “Who do you really work for?”
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you, but I’m undercover for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I’m a federal agent and Bryant is working with Kirikhan rebels. He was the mastermind behind stolen military weapons in California and responsible for the death of two military policemen. I need you to promise to get out. Take Ariane and the kids to your in-laws just until it’s safe to come back.”
“I think he’s storing those weapons in our warehouse. I could get you inside.”
“You can?”
“Yes, I have the code. I could give it to you.” He made a grunting noise, then said, “Where are you?”
“Almost to La Paz. What is the code?”
As soon as she hung up, she turned to Ashe. “We’ll go to the warehouse and make sure the weapons are secure. They have no idea we were at the crash site, and I’m pretty sure it was hard for them to get a description, but we could have spooked them. It’s possible they could be getting ready to ship them out of the country. I don’t think we should wait. Cris gave us the code. We could do a looksee and then report back to the teams.”
He nodded. “You trust him?”
“Yes, I do. He’s not part of this.”
“Okay, but we’re going to need some firepower.”
She nodded. “My boss has us covered.”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
Ashe parked several blocks away from the warehouse, and they made their way around to the back where the side door opened up into the storage area. Her boss had supplied them with automatic weapons.
Paige keyed in the code, and they slipped inside. Ashe put his hand on her shoulder after only a few steps.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered. “I prefer to do recon before we do any type of assault.” He was very busy watching the door and waiting, focused, and looking damned deadly with the way he was holding his weapon, which oddly enough almost made her feel safe.
His gaze slid to her again, his face grim, and suddenly—oh, quite suddenly—all she wanted to do was retreat. “I know,” she whispered back. “This feels off. Let’s get out of here.”
The lights came on, and Anderson and his buddies strolled out into the center of the warehouse, Norris and Reggie training their weapons on them. “Leaving so soon? But you haven’t been introduced to our guests.” Two hard looking men stood behind the lackey brothers. Kirikhan rebels.
Paige’s heart went into her throat, and then she saw Cris and it plummeted to her shoes. His face was battered and he had his head bowed.
She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky, frustrated sigh. She closed her hand so tightly she could feel the sharp edges of her fingernails pressing into her skin, until Anderson’s flunkies snatched their weapons out of their hands.
Anderson clapped him on the back, and he winced. “Thanks to Cris, we’re done with the cat and mouse game.”
“Cris,” she whispered, his name broadcasting her disappointment, realizing that she’d made a terrible error, one that was going to get all three of them killed. She’d trusted him, let down her guard and made the most colossal mistake of her professional career.
She hated to doubt herself, tried to shake it off, but it was a tricky, invasive emotion. She’d never been this wrong before.
But tonight she was, she thought. Tonight felt different. Tonight she was afraid.
“I’m sorry, Paige. Ashe. They have my family.”
Her gut clenched hard, and she looked at Ashe whose expression was flat, calm, and lethal.
“Bryant, you’re committing treason, not to mention murder counts and theft of government property. Those warheads…you know what they’ll do with them. What kind of man have you turned into?”
At the mention of the warheads, the two rebels swore and started shooting rapid Russian at Anderson. He held up his hand and turned to her, a dose of stone-cold silence.
“I’m a federal agent and Petty Officer Wilder is a Navy SEAL. You harm us and you’re looking at the death penalty.” Her voice rang with authority inside the cavernous warehouse.
This time he laughed.
Norris grabbed her and flexed cuffed her wrists, then pulled her close, his breath hot and unwelcome on her neck. “You’re mine, sweetie.”
Ashe leaped at Dean and his attack was so fast, so brutal all the men there didn’t even have a chance to move. He pushed him against the wall, his arm across his windpipe. Paige saw that Dean couldn’t breathe and Ashe had every intention of making sure he never took another breath.
Reggie hit him in the head with the end of his rifle and Ashe let go as Dean started choking and backpedaling away from Ashe, who fell to his knees, then Reggie flex cuffed his hands behind his back.
He grabbed Ashe by his shirt collar and dragged him over to Anderson, pulling him to his feet.
“Dean, you can have the girl, but hold off just yet. Petty Officer Wilder and I are going to have a chat.”
Anderson punched Ashe so hard in the gut that he doubled over and went to his knees. Then he smashed his knee into his face and knocked him onto the concrete. Blood splattered from a gash on his cheek, running down over his jaw and neck. Anderson grabbed a handful of Ashe’s hair. “I’ve had about enough of you, Navy boy. Just like your damn father, never know when to quit. Well, after I put a bullet in his brain, that stopped him cold.”
Ashe’s face contorted into such a mask of pain and agony, Paige’s stomach clenched, his roar feral and anguished just before he head-butted Anderson and knocked him completely off his feet. Ashe rose in one powerful push of his thighs and rushed over to Anderson, ready to stomp his face when Reggie grabbed him from behind, clamping his arms tight around Ashe’s arms and waist and hauling him away. The big man could barely hold him as he thrashed and fought to get free.
“You fucker. You’re a dead man,” Ashe said, and it was more potent, more crazy because he was so damn quiet. She ached for him.
Anderson rose from the floor and turned toward her. He raised a pistol and pointed it directly at her. Ashe stilled, his harsh breathing suddenly hitching.
“Attack me again, and I’ll fucking blow her head off.”
Ashe clenched his jaw, fury rolling off him in waves, and he gave Anderson a narrow-eyed, lethal gaze. If looks could kill…
“That’s better.”
Reggie shoved him, and Anderson grabbed him by the throat. This time Paige tried to move, but Dean grabbed her and held her back.
“I’m going to ask you once and only once. Then you have five minutes to make a decision. If it’s the wrong decision, she dies. No second chances.”
“What do you want?”
“The ETA of NCIS and Navy SEALs. Where and when?”
Paige made a soft sound. She was forcing him to betray his country, his team just like he’d done to Cris. Ashe, who would go to his death before he’d put his brothers in arms in mortal danger. But then his eyes met hers and they softened, the anger banked.
Oh, God, Ashe…no.
Anderson turned away and Ashe wanted to kill him with his bare hands.
“This is some kind of revenge for what happened with my father,” he bit out, keeping his voice calm, despite the demoralizing dread he felt. He would do anything to protect Paige, but give up the coordinates, betray his team? He’d taken a vow. If he broke that vow, he’d break his honor and like vines that had entwined too tight, all of that was mixed up in his own father’s honor or was it lack of honor?
He’d trained hard, honed his body into a killing machine, but where a SEAL excelled wasn’t his body, it was his mental toughness, it was making decisions on the fly, it was all about winning every goddamned time, against the toughest odds, against the toughest enemies.
Memories of being tangled up with her, of holding her, taking her, the warmth of her body, the smell of her skin. Standing here in agony with the threat of losing her, he knew without a doubt that he was in love with her, the real kind, the kind that held no illusions. His heart beat as if in slow motion. In this place, in this time he was her partner and all the mental toughness in the world wouldn’t save him from the devastation of being the reason Anderson took her life.
If he could buy them some time, any time to get back in the game, that would be the win. The NCIS team would find an empty warehouse, but his teammates, his close friends, his brothers would find a freaking small war.
