A Dead Man's Pulse

by Samantha A. Cole

  Dakota’s arms went around Logan’s neck and he bent his knees, lifted her, and urged her to wrap her legs around his hips. His rigid cock rubbed her clit through their clothes. Reaching down, she found the door knob and turned it. If he hadn’t had such a tight grip on her, she would have fallen when the door swung open, but somehow he’d been ready for it. He stepped inside before kicking the door shut again. His mouth left hers for her neck as he pressed her against the foyer wall. “What time will your roommate be home?”

  “She won’t,” Dakota answered, tilting her head to the side to give him better access to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Told me earlier she’s crashing at her boyfriend’s house tonight. He’s a pilot and just got back from two weeks of flying around Europe.”

  “Bedroom or do I have to slow down and go home to a cold shower?”

  Her heart rate and breathing skyrocketed as his fingers plucked her nipple through her thin shirt and bra. Her mind raged a war with her body. It was crazy, getting involved with a partner, but this case wasn’t going to last forever. When it was over, Dakota would, hopefully, be staying with the TPD Special Ops Division, and Logan would be running off, saving the world with his teammates at Trident. This was a fling for both of them and, damn, if she wasn’t going to enjoy it in the here and now. “Fuck that! Bedroom . . . now . . . Sir.”

  He chuckled against her skin causing a shiver to run down her spine, and she knew that was the last demand she’d be giving him tonight. “Point the way.”

  In less than a minute, he was easing her down onto the bed, his head dipping further to put her breast in his mouth, clothes and all. Grasping the hem of her T-shirt, he dragged it up her body and over her head, but that was as far as it went, trapping her arms above her. “Grab the slats in the headboard, baby. I think I’m going to like giving orders in the bedroom.”

  And she was going to enjoy following those orders. When she did as directed, her “Yes, Sir,” came out on a moan as he bit down gently on her nipple. She wanted to beg him to remove the last scrap of fabric separating his mouth from her puckered peak, but the anticipation was making her hotter. All she needed to do was feel . . . leave the rest of the world on the other side of her front door, and just feel.

  Instead of reaching behind her and undoing the clasp of the bra, Logan sent it the same route as her shirt, leaving it wrapped around her upper arms. “Beautiful, baby. Damn, you’re so beautiful. Not that I expected anything different.”

  She hadn’t realized her eyes had closed until he’d said those words. Lifting her lids, she saw him staring at her chest, almost in reverent awe. His gaze roamed upward to meet her own. “Last chance to kick my ass to the curb, Koko. Otherwise I’m not going to stop until you’ve screamed my name so loud that your neighbors call 9-1-1.” Gone was the guy who’d been thanking her for not laughing at his questions, and in his place was one smokin’ hot, panty-melting, confident alpha male.

  “That would have to be really fucking loud since the condo next to us is empty.”

  “Hmm. That sounds like a challenge if I ever heard one.” His thumbs flicked her nipples, and she felt it in her core. Shifting down on the bed, he removed her sneakers and socks before undoing the snap and zipper of her jeans. Pulling on the waistband, he slowly pulled them and her thong down her legs, his eyes on each inch of her skin as it was revealed. Her pussy flushed under his heated appraisal, readying itself for him. It was clear he was in no hurry, and Dakota knew it would be hours before they were both sated enough to sleep.

  Standing, Logan pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor with her clothes. When his hands dropped to the waist of his black cargo pants, Dakota licked her lips in anticipation—it had felt impressive pressed against her, long and thick, and she was dying to see if her estimations were correct. He paused, and it took a moment for her to glance up at his face to find he was smirking at her, knowingly. “Impatient, baby? Don’t you know curiosity killed the cat?”

  “But what a way to go.”

  He barked out a laugh, and then quickly shed the last of his clothes. And, yup, he definitely met her expectations. Damn, his cock was a thing of beauty, already fully erect and reaching toward his navel. Her tongue could almost taste the bit of pre-cum on the purplish tip of it. Climbing up onto the bed, Logan settled between her legs, pushing up on the back of her thighs to spread her even wider, and she was grateful she’d had a waxing appointment the other day. Tilting her head down, she stared as he ran his hands up to the top of her thighs, and let a thumb brush against her pussy lips and clit. Again, he wasn’t in any hurry, content to just stroke her for a few moments, causing her to squelch the urge to close her legs and trap his hands between them. His other thumb dipped into her core a scant half inch and she moaned. “More . . . oh please, more.”

  “Was that a demand? Or a request? I’m not supposed to reward demands, and I sure as hell didn’t hear a ‘Sir’ in there.”

  He was getting into the Dom thing, and although his tone had been teasing, she also knew he was starting to understand exactly what she needed. She grinned. “It was a request, Sir.”

  “Well, then, let’s see what I can do to honor that pretty request.”

  His middle finger parted her folds, and this time, he pushed it further inside before pulling out again. He slowly fucked her with it, gaining a little more ground with each pass, but not as much as she was ready to beg him for. Dakota wanted him to impale her with it. Her eyelids shut as she concentrated on the sensations his fingers were creating. When his tongue replaced his thumb on her clit, she nearly hit the ceiling. “Oh, God!”

  “Like that, baby?” He didn’t wait for her answer as he repeated the action. Flattening his tongue, he drove the little bud of nerves crazy, and Dakota couldn’t stop the moaning and keening coming from her lips. He added a second finger to the first one fucking her and thrust deep. It took everything in her not to move her hips. Damn, the man was talented when it came to sex. It wasn’t long before he had her climbing higher and higher. “No cumming until I say so, baby. Let’s see how long it can take for me to make you beg.”

  Not long at all, she thought. But she’d heard the challenge in his tone and she was going to hold out as long as she could, because it would make the end result much more explosive. Her hands gripped the wooden slats harder when his fingers found that sensitive tissue deep in her pussy, rubbing it, not hard enough to send her over, but enough that she had to bite her tongue to keep from pleading for release. He spread his two fingers inside her and added his tongue to the torture as the thumb of his other hand found her clit again. The triple assault was more than she could take and damn it, she couldn’t wait any longer. “Please, Sir. Oh, please, let me cum. Shit! I need . . .”

  “I know what you need, baby. Get ready to fly.”

  His fingers and tongue increased their assault, and when her climax hit her hard, Dakota did what he’d predicted—she screamed his name so loud, she wouldn’t be surprised if someone called 9-1-1 on them. Her body shook with the force of her orgasm as Logan drew it out as long as possible. Perspiration coated her skin as she floated back down, gasping for breath. He lightly nipped her inner thigh. “You’re gorgeous when you cum, Koko, fucking gorgeous. I could watch you do that all night long and never tire of it.”

  She glowed under his praise. “Thank you, Sir.” It had been a long time since she’d felt so incredibly feminine around a man, but Logan brought that buried part of her to the surface. He was dangerous—not to her body or mind, but to her heart. When his fingers began stroking her again, she pushed all thoughts from her mind other than how good he was making her feel. She’d deal with the rest of it in the morning.

  “Infidels, you will pay for coming to our country. You’ll never see your American whores again. We killed your friends, like the disgusting pigs deserved, as we will kill you.”

  “Fuck you, assholes,” Clutch barked, giving their captors two middle fingers from where his wrists were shackl
ed to the wall above him, despite his weakness. “Sit on ‘em and rotate.”

  His voice was as raspy as Logan’s felt. The two of them, and an unconscious Stash, were the only ones left alive. The others had been brutally whipped before being decapitated. And now it appeared one more of them would be dragged out at gunpoint for their torturous death. With Stash out of it, there would be no entertainment for the ISIS bastards, so that meant they’d choose between Logan and Clutch. They’d made a game of this after Moonshine and Gunny had been killed, drawing out the selection process of who would end up on the chopping block next. Logan couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d never be the same and he couldn’t let them pick Clutch next—it was time to end this. He’d still go down with a fight, but he’d be damned if he let his best friend die before him.

  Rolling to his knees, Logan stood.

  “Cowboy, what the fuck are you doing?”

  He turned a deaf ear to Clutch’s question, knowing his buddy already had a clue what the answer was. “Take me, you fucking bastards! I’ll kill as many of you as I can before I meet my God-Almighty. Yeah, you’re not the only ones who believe in the afterlife, but unlike you, I don’t rape and murder in His name.” The five men began shouting in Arabic at him, and so did Clutch, but he just raised his voice. “Our Father, who art in heaven . . .”

  Logan clenched his fists and finished the Lord’s prayer before starting on the Hail Mary. A burst of gunfire into the ceiling above his head had him ducking as dirt rained down on him.

  “You will pay for your insolence, infidel, but not today,” the leader sneered.

  He then spoke in rapid Arabic and pointed at Clutch. Logan’s eyes went wide and his stomach dropped when he realized his plan had backfired. “Shit! No! Take me, you bastards! Take me!”

  They ignored him as one used a key to unlock Clutch’s cell on the other side of Stash’s. His teammate was already on his feet, ready to put up the fight of his life, but they weren’t going to play fair. Before the bastards got within range of his fists, one pulled out a Sig Sauer they’d confiscated from the Raiders and shot him in his right knee. Clutch couldn’t hold back the roar of agony as his leg gave way and he dropped like a stone. “Son of a bitch! God-damn fucking bastards! That’s the only way you mother fuckers have a bloody chance in hell!”

  Logan was also screaming at them as Clutch tackled the first man to approach him around his knees, before throwing as many punches as he could. Another Afghani lifted the rifle he was holding and slammed it down on the back of the Marine’s head, stunning him. The captor Clutch had been beating to a pulp, got to his feet and kicked him in the gut several times before aiming at his bloodied knee. Unable to bear the pain, Clutch vomited on several of their feet which earned him another kick to his abdomen.

  Watching in horror, unable to do anything but scream at them to stop, which of course went unheeded, Logan’s heart sank as they unshackled his best friend’s wrists before dragging him half-unconscious from the cell. The leader sneered at Logan, spat something in Arabic, and then walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  A sob rose up in Logan’s throat. “Cluuuuutttttcccchhhhh!”

  “Logan! Logan! Wake up!”

  His eyes flew open and he was suddenly back in the present. Sweat poured from his body as he gasped for air. The last of his nightmare vanished with the realization of where he was and who he was with. Cautiously, without touching him, Dakota knelt in front of him on the bed. “Are you okay?”

  “I—I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His gaze roamed over her naked body, searching for any sign he had hit her or something as he forced his fists to release the sheets he was gripping tightly.

  “No. You were just thrashing around and yelling.” Climbing from the bed, she pulled on his T-shirt. “Let me get us something to drink.”

  Thankful for a moment alone, he realized there had been no fear, pity, or reproach in Dakota’s tone of voice. Rolling off the bed, he stumbled to the attached bath and turned the handle on the sink. Cupping his hands together, he splashed the cool water on his face several times, before staring at his reflection in the mirror. Droplets fell from his chin and he grabbed a nearby towel as Dakota appeared in the doorway. Instead of the bottle of water he’d expected her to bring him, she was carrying two glasses of what appeared to be scotch or whiskey. “Is one shot of Jack Daniels okay?”

  He reached for the one she held out toward him. “Yeah. Only one.”

  “I noticed whenever we had dinner or drinks, two was your limit no matter what you were drinking or when.”

  Tossing back the smooth liquor, he savored the burn down his throat. “If I don’t stop at two, I won’t stop until I get to the point I want to fight someone, so yeah, two’s my limit.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Dakota asked before downing her own shot.

  Logan shook his head as his gaze fell to her painted toes and trailed upward. “Nope.” He stepped toward her, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and yanked it over her head. “Talking is the last thing I want to do right now.”

  Grinning, she placed her glass on the counter next to his. “How about a shower and a blow job . . . Sir?”

  And, damn, if the sight of her toned, naked body and the offer of a blowjob hadn’t already made his cock harden, then that last word would have. It occurred to him this is what he’d heard the Trident women talking about. While their Doms took care of them, cherished them, there were times when the reverse was necessary, and they loved to cater to their Doms’ needs, no matter what they were. Bringing his hand to his groin, he stroked himself. “I think that sounds amazing.”

  Stepping over to the shower, Dakota reached in and turned on the water, waiting for the right temperature before taking his free hand and pulling him into the stall and under the spray. The shower was larger than he’d expected and the water pressure was perfect, pounding on his back in a ruthless but incredible massage. Without a word, Dakota picked up a loofah sponge and poured some body wash into it. A citrus scent filled the air, reminding him of the orange spray they used at The Covenant to clean off the equipment. He closed his eyes as she ran the sudsy sponge up his arm, over his chest, and back down the other arm. Taking her time, she cleaned him from head to toe before tossing the loofah aside and rinsing him off. Once he was soap-free, she gently urged him to lean against the tiled wall. Swallowing hard, he watched her take a towel from the rack outside the shower, fold it over several times, then drop it on the wet floor. She sank to her knees atop the towel in front of him. “Let me please you, Sir.”

  As if he could say no. “Suck me, Koko. Make me forget all about the hell in my nightmares.”

  He tilted his cock toward her waiting mouth, and groaned as her heat engulfed him. She hadn’t hesitated or drawn out her seduction, going all in, which he was grateful for. He needed what she offered him. Her head bobbed up and down as she worked him over. Her tongue teased and tantalized every inch of his length, swirling it around his girth. She sucked, licked, and raked her teeth against his hard flesh uninhibitedly. Cupping his balls, she gently rolled them in her hand. His fingers gripped her wet hair, setting the pace he wanted. “Damn, baby. That feels incredible. Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop.”

  Taking him deep, Dakota swallowed and Logan’s eyes crossed as his head thumped against the tile behind him. “Do that again. Shit! Baby, I’m going to come down your throat. If that’s not what you want, tell me now.”

  Her mouth released him long enough to say, “I want all of it, Sir.”

  She was going to be the death of him. His knees began to quiver as a tingling started low in his spine. Dakota hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard. His hand tightened in her hair. “Faster, baby. Faster.”

  Picking up the pace, she took him deep over and over, and Logan climaxed, shouting the nickname he’d given her. “Koko! Yes! Fuck! Arrrgghhhh!” His hips bucked as she swallowed every drop he poured into her. Black and white spots danced in front of his closed eyelids, and he thoug
ht he’d never stop cumming into her mouth. Gasping for air, he released his hold on her head as she licked him clean. Pulling away, her gaze rose to his. “Think you can go back to sleep now, Sir?”

  Reaching down, he grabbed her under the armpits and helped her up. Crushing his mouth to hers, he kissed her hard and long before finally lifting his head again. “Sleep is the last thing I want now, baby. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum before my cock recovers.”

  He shut the water off and grabbed another towel to quickly dry her and then himself. He’d told her the truth. The last thing he wanted was to go back to sleep to where his nightmares awaited him. If only he could stay awake and in her bed for the rest of his life, he’d be a very, very happy man.

  C

  HAPTER 15

  “Make the next right,” Georgia Branneth instructed from the passenger seat of Tiny’s SUV, thankful the big, teddy bear of a man was driving her home. From what he and Master Devon had been able to determine, the alternator had gone out in her Toyota. She’d been unable to start it when attempting to leave The Covenant tonight. The club owner had assured her he would have the Trident Security mechanics fix it for her tomorrow while Tiny volunteered to drive her home. She’d texted her friend as soon as it was apparent she’d need a ride to the high school, where Georgia taught English and Janet was the vice principal, so she would see it first thing in the morning.