Her Husband's Army Buddy (McLeod Security Book 1)

by Doris O'Connor

  How he’d managed to stay upright at all was a fucking miracle in itself, because that had been intense, made more so by the emotions which swamped him.

  He might have called that fucking, but it was so much more. Seeing Zane and his wife still locked together as intimately as two people could be … fuck, that was such a turn-on. He flicked the shower back on to wash away the evidence of their mutual desire, and Zane groaned as the water hit his back and no doubt sore ass.

  Sean hadn’t been gentle, had been utterly incapable of being so, not with Zane’s ass gripping his cock in a stranglehold, made ten times more potent by Sandy’s response to every one of his thrusts into her husband’s depth.

  He pulled both of them into his arms, mindful of how still Sandy was. Eyes closed, head resting on her husband’s shoulder, she looked deliciously disheveled. Strands of her wet hair played peekaboo with her rack, where the still clamped nipples stood proudly erect.

  Zane’s softening cock slid out of her swollen pussy, and she moaned softly.

  “I think we finished her off, Zane. Help me release her out of this get up.”

  Zane stepped back, held his head briefly into the steam of water and then shook it. Drops of water went flying off the ends of his dark hair, and Sean laughed. It was longer than it had been in the army, but it suited his old buddy.

  “Give me a minute. You killed me, too.” Zane pulled his head down to kiss him, and as brief as the contact was it grounded Sean like nothing else could.

  “You’re okay? I wasn’t too hard on you?” Sean inwardly grimaced at the hoarse cadence of his voice, but, fuck him, he loved this man, and cared far too much about the soft woman who stirred in his arms. If he wasn’t careful he was in real danger of falling for her. The speed with which this was all happening should make him run far away, but his feet were rooted to the spot. Not least, because it was his duty to take care of both his subs.

  “Fuck no, mate, I loved it, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen Sandy like this. Let’s get her taken care of and into bed.”

  They worked together, freeing her of her restraints and the clamps, and Sean washed her down while Zane held her in his arms. By the time Sean turned off the shower, and they were all sufficiently dried off, Sandy was more with it. The way she clung to her husband, and the tender looks Zane bestowed on her as he cradled her in his arms and carried her through to their bedroom left a hollow ache in Sean’s gut.

  What the hell was he doing coming between man and wife? As hot as all of that had been he had no right to be here. Not really. No doubt, come morning Sandy would feel very differently about all of this. At Zane’s nudge, he pulled back the bedcovers to enable the man to place his wife on the enormous bed. He had to give it to Zane.

  The man had fallen on his feet, and his success in business was echoed in his home. While not ostentatiously big, the four-bed semi-detached Zane and Sandy called home was comfortably furnished with all the modern mod cons in place, never more so in evidence than in this bedroom. The bed was big enough to accommodate four people comfortably—a fact that wasn’t lost on him—as Zane slid in next to his wife and quirked an eyebrow in invitation.

  “Come on in. I’m fucking exhausted after all that, and even you can’t keep going forever. Besides, Sandy is a cuddler. She needs the contact after a scene.”

  Sure enough, she reached for her husband and almost seemed to want to climb into his skin while he stroked her hair and murmured soothing nonsense into her still damp hair. Seeing her like this, all flushed and rosy and needing Zane, made that hollow ache in his gut widen to the depth of the Grand Canyon.

  “Yeah, from you. I’m just a—”

  “Stop being a dick and get your ass in here. I know Sandy. She’d never have agreed to any of this if she didn’t want you here, so stop the noble crap and help me take care of our girl.”

  Sean pulled in a sharp breath to ease the instant longing that filled him, but as Zane all but stared him down, and looked ready to punch his lights out, he complied and climbed in the other side. Once there he couldn’t have stayed away from them if his life had depended on it, and Zane growled his approval when he spooned around Sandy. As for the warm bundle of curves that fit his hard body as though she was made for him, she sighed, threw one arm back to pull him closer, and then fell asleep.

  Zane smiled at him, his even, white teeth just about visible in the darkening room. The lights had to be on a timer or something, and Sean rolled his eyes in silent amusement.

  “I’ll stay for a while, but I really ought to leave.”

  “You do that, and she’ll never forgive you. Neither will I. We want you here.”

  Zane shut his eyes, effectively stopping any further protest Sean might have made, and soon his even breathing told Sean he, too, was asleep.

  This was his cue to leave, the bedroom, at least. They had a guest room he could use, should use, because Sean never slept easy, but exhaustion pulled at his limbs, too. With Zane’s leg curling over his, and Sandy’s delectable ass nestled into his hardening cock—I fucking have turned into a teenage boy—he gave in. He would just shut his eyes for a moment. Where was the harm in that?

  Plenty as he woke up with his hand wrapped around Sandy’s throat. Heart galloping and with his sweat in his eyes, he didn’t see his buddy’s wife. He wasn’t in a cozy bed but caught up in the never-ending nightmare that had been his last mission. Bullets pummeled his back, the force of which should mean his death, were it not for his protective armor. From somewhere, Zane’s shouts broke through the fever and the noise.

  “Fuck, Sean, let her go.” The punch to the side of his head mercifully faded everything to black.

  ****

  Sandy had the most delicious dream, one where she was cocooned between two hot, hard male bodies, their even breaths into her ears an echo of her beating heart. Content, happy … until it changed. The comforting warmth turned suffocating, menacing.

  I can’t breathe.

  Panicked, her eyes flew open to see Sean on top of her. Not only was she pinned by his considerable muscle mass, his fist on her throat closed off her air supply completely. Eyes as hard as steel stared right through her while sweat ran down his face. His usually so sensuous, full lips curled back into a menacing snarl, jaw locked so tight his scar stood out, throbbed in strain, as his fist tightened even more.

  Over the thud of her heartbeat in her ears, and the rising panic that meant she saw stars in front of her eyes, she heard Zane’s voice. Gruff with sleep, it quickly turned into a full-blown shout as the lights came on, and her husband’s face appeared in her peripheral vision. His fists pummeled Sean’s back, and then the side light which lived on her night stand made sickening contact with the side of Sean’s head. His fist on her loosened, and he slumped on top of her.

  Sandy still couldn’t breathe, stuck under Sean’s bulk and tried in vain to shove his dead weight off of her. Just as she thought she was going to pass out, the heavy pressure lifted and Zane’s frantic words in her ear registered, as he pulled her off the bed and into his arms.

  “Jesus, baby, breathe. Talk to me. I’ll kill him if he hurt you.”

  Sandy didn’t have the strength to reassure him. It took too much effort to fill her lungs with much needed oxygen. Eventually the sickness passed, and the room came into sharp focus, as did the reality of their situation.

  Her eyes widened in horror at the bloodstain which appeared under Sean’s head and marred the pale carpet. How had he ended up on the floor?

  She pushed against Zane’s chest, and when that didn’t work, she finally found her voice.

  “I’m okay. Let me go, dammit. What on earth did you do?”

  “What did I do? Fuck, girl, he was strangling you.” The hurt in Zane’s voice, and the almost desperation in which he ran his hands over her body as though to reassure himself that she really was okay, twisted her insides. She wanted nothing more to snuggle in, to reassure her husband, but, right now, Sean needed her more. The
crimson stain on the carpet got wider, and Sean wasn’t moving. Was he even breathing?

  Her heart twisted anew at the expression on her husband’s face when she turned her back on him and scrambled down to the floor to check on his buddy. Putting her hand over his mouth confirmed that he was breathing, even if his respiratory efforts were far too shallow.

  “I know that. But he didn’t mean it, you of all people should know that.” She glanced briefly up at her husband, and the pain in his eyes added to the ache in her chest. However, right now, Sean was her priority, and they had to make sure he was okay. “Jesus, he’s barely breathing. Help me move him into recovery and get me a towel to stem that bleeding.”

  She pushed the night lamp to one side—ignoring the bloody evidence on it—and caught the towel Zane threw her way with one hand, while she probed Sean’s skull with the fingers of her free hand. There it was, a spongy mess where the lamp must have made contact and caused the head injury. She pressed the towel to the wound, while Zane carefully maneuvered his buddy into the recovery position.

  His hand tightened over the white-knuckled grip she had on the towel pressed to Sean’s head.

  “Here, I’ve got this. Ring the ambulance and get some clothes on. We need to get him seen to asap. Fuck, I didn’t mean to cause this.” Zane’s regret and worry showed in the hoarse words. “Hang on in there, Sean, please.”

  Belatedly it dawned on Sandy that they were all stark naked, and she hastily grabbed some knickers, jeans, and a top, while she fumbled for her mobile. It seemed an interminably long time before she got through to ambulance control.

  “There’s been an accident. We need an ambulance now. It’s a head injury, and he’s not conscious. … Yes, he’s breathing, barely. … We’ve put him into recovery. … Yes, I will do. … Please hurry. … Okay.”

  Sandy stopped listening to the controller, and the phone slipped out of her shaking hands, when Sean groaned in pain, and tried to move.

  “Whaaa … so … Sand…”

  “Easy there, buddy, stay put.” Zane pushed Sean back down to the floor and held him there. He shook his head at his buddy and murmured his own apology.

  “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to hit you this hard, I swear.” Zane’s voice cracked in emotion while Sean’s pain-filled blue gaze connected with Sandy’s as he struggled to speak, and she hurried over to the two men.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine. Don’t try to talk. It will all be all right, you’ll see.”

  She took over from Zane in holding the now blood-soaked towel to Sean’s head wound so that Zane, too, could throw some clothes on. There was nothing they could do about Sean’s naked state, apart from cover his lower half with the woolen blanket that lived on the chair in the corner of their bedroom.

  How long she sat there, chatting nonsense to a rapidly fading Sean to keep him awake, while Zane paced the room, she would never know, but, eventually blue lights reflected around the room, and Zane disappeared to open the door to the paramedics. She had never been so relieved to see the green uniform of the two men crew as she was the moment they appeared in the doorway followed by a haggard looking Zane. He seemed to have aged several years since they’d all woken up so rudely, and her heart turned over in her chest. So not how she thought their evening would end.

  “Okay then, here, I’ve got this. My name is Steve, and I’m a paramedic. This here is Ben.” The older one of the two guys invading her personal space smiled at her while the other one grasped her shoulders and pulled her away from Sean. He’d slipped back into unconsciousness, and it took every ounce of self-control she had to step away, as directed.

  “There, now, we’ve got this, Miss?”

  “Mrs. McLeod, but call me Sandy. Please, will he be all right?”

  “Just let us worry over that. What happened here, Sandy?”

  Steve’s gaze briefly rested on her throat, and Sandy fought the urge to cover up what had to be substantial bruising coming up, if the soreness she experienced when trying to swallow was any indication.

  I should have grabbed a Polo neck, dammit.

  Some sort of unspoken communication seemed to be going on between the two men, before they turned their attention back to Sean.

  “Okay, right, Mr. McLeod, can you hear me?”

  Sandy jumped when Zane’s large hands landed on her shoulders and pulled her back against him.

  “I’m Mr. McLeod. His name is Sean. Sean Manson. He’s an old army buddy of mine, and we … well, never mind what we were doing. Just fix him up, will you?”

  “I see.” Ben, the younger paramedic said, and again that indecipherable look passed between the two men. He got on his radio to update control, and then walked past Sandy and Zane to get a stretcher.

  Sandy started to shiver by the time he came back up the stairs, and Zane swore softly and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

  “It’s okay, baby girl. We’ll get this sorted.”

  Steve looked up from securing Sean to the stretcher and frowned.

  “Looks like your wife is going into shock. We’ll take her in the ambulance with us. There won’t be room for you, sir, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll follow in our car. Just take good care of them both, will you?”

  “That’s our job.”

  Before Sandy knew what was happening, she was bundled into a silvery survival blanket and strapped into one of the pull-down seats in the back of the ambulance. The doors shut on a worried looking Zane, and Steve hooked Sean up to all sorts of equipment while Ben got into the cab and they were off.

  Once Steve seemed reassured that Sean was doing okay, he turned his attention to her.

  “Warmer now?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you. I don’t really know what came over me.”

  Steve reached out to pat her arm and shrugged.

  “You’ve had a shock. It’s only to be expected. Want me to look at that throat of yours?”

  “What?” Sandy startled and shook her head. Suddenly his kind smile didn’t seem such. More calculating and judgy.

  “I’m fine. There’s no need. You just look after Sean.”

  “Nothing more I can do for him now. He’s stable, so that’s a good thing. Your throat on the other hand…” He shook his head and sighed. “That looks sore. What happened tonight, Sandy?” When she didn’t reply he shrugged. “Okay, tell me to mind my own business, but—”

  “Mind your own business. It’s nothing.”

  A short laugh was his response this time.

  “Fair enough, but you’ll have to tell them at the hospital. I dare say the police will want to have a word as well.”

  That got Sandy’s attention, and she forced her gaze away from a far too still Sean and focused back on Steve.

  “Why on earth? You called the police?”

  Again, with that infuriating shrug.

  “Standard policy when we attend a suspected domestic violence case.”

  Sandy’s ears started ringing, and she tried in vain to swallow down the rising bile. Good lord, what a mess this all was.

  “I’m not some battered wife, for fuck’s sake. What we did, all three of us, was consensual, and it’s nobody’s business.”

  “If you say so, Sandy, but that doesn’t explain how Sean ended up in this state, now does it?” He held his hands up in surrender when she opened her mouth to have a go at him and smiled. “Look, I’m not judging here. My first concern is to the patient. Just giving you a heads-up as to what you can expect when we get to the hospital, that’s all.”

  Sandy slumped back in her seat and sighed.

  “Fine, I appreciate that, but there really isn’t anything to tell. Sean’s injury was an accident that’s all.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them for the remainder of the journey to the hospital. Once those doors opened all hell broke loose.

  Sean was whisked away to be assessed, and Sandy had to endure yet more questioning, first from the doctor in duty, and th
en the elderly police woman who insisted on taking her statement. By the time Sandy had finished telling her version, her ears were glowing in embarrassment.

  “Right, so let me recap that. You’re in a consensual BDSM relationship with your husband and tonight you decided to include Sean in that relationship?”

  Sandy nodded and forced herself to look the woman in the eyes.

  “Yes, that about sums it up. It was my decision to agree to that. I was in no way coerced or forced, and if you must know it was fantastic, until… Well, until…” Unbidden the image of Sean on top of her, choking her, sprang to the forefront of her mind, and her hand went to her throat. She’d seen how raw it looked when she’d looked in the mirror after having used the facilities. The WPC’s gaze followed her actions and her eyes narrowed.

  “So, your bruises aren’t due to some form of erotic roleplay then?”

  It was on the tip of Sandy’s tongue to say erotic asphyxiation was her thing, but that would have been a lie. Besides, knowing Zane, he would tell them exactly what happened, and he would take all the blame on himself. The longing to be back in his arms, to hear him tell her that everything was going to be all right, took her breath away, and she blinked away tears.

  “I need to see my husband,” she said.

  WPC Adderly nodded and smiled. Perfunctory and cold, it didn’t reach her eyes, however.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. He has been charged with GBH and is currently at the police station telling his version of events.”

  “What? But that’s insane. I told you what happened. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. I mean neither one of them did, I mean… oh fuck it.”

  “I appreciate the stress you’re under, Mrs. McLeod, but please refrain from using such language. Tell me again what happened in this supposed accident, please.”

  Sandy didn’t appreciate the intonation the woman put on that one word, but she had to get her to believe her, so she swallowed her snarky comeback.